


Facsimile

by Zira



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Altpower, Bullying, Drug Use, Gen, Paranoia, Single Parents, because she has to touch Newter, not shardswap, she leaves eventually, the world seems worse in general from taylor's pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-10-27 14:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zira/pseuds/Zira
Summary: Taylor's children don't grow, except in numbers





	1. How Do You Solve A Problem Like Sophia?

**Author's Note:**

> I probably should post my other fics on here, but for now, have this.

Taylor reaches into her locker, pulling out her things unhappily while trying to hold back tears. She never should have brought her mother’s flute, and now it’s… it’s gone. There’s a tearing sound, and she blinks, peering in. There, behind where her coat, is some paper that seems… stuck in the back?

She tugs on it, and it rips in her hands, leaving a tattered end sticking out from the back of the locker, and a destroyed partial page in her hand. Glancing at it, she can’t help but groan. Math notes. Ruined, and useless from how they’re crumpled in her hand and how it’s ripped through. 

Not that it matters too much, her grades are already long dead. 

But she doesn’t know how this got here or _how_ it got stuck in the back of the locker.

She closes the metal door, spins her lock, and heads out. She can go to the library, and if her heart is too heavy, there are soundproof rooms where no one will hear her crying.

\--

Soon, Taylor is noticing that things are just going missing around her, even when it has no _possible_ way for it to happen. She’s put a locked box next to her, and the supposedly sentimental item she’s put in it - a friendship necklace from Emma that long since stopped mattering to her - is gone, Emma holding it up mockingly at her.

Homework she knows she’s brought, missing from her locker. Projects, too.

It has her watching and looking around quietly. 

Eventually, she can see that this will just keep happening, and she knows it’s something parahuman. How can it be anything else? She even calls into the hotline to report it, only for it to be ignored. 

As such, she starts to learn to walk and move quietly, as unnoticed as she can be. 

Generally, she succeeds. Unless, of course, Emma is going out of her way to harass her. 

But one day, it changes. Sophia starts going out of her way to push and shove her, no longer just content to do it when she’s just randomly there. Actively looking for her sometimes.

It has her more cautious, so she stops one day before turning the corner to her locker after being let out of detention for ‘lying’ about her homework being destroyed, listening for it. There’s voices just out of discernable hearing, so she peeks, and there’s Emma and Sophia. Sophia has her hand stuck into a locker, and pulls out an art project Taylor’s working on in class. 

Oh. Oh, so that’s what it is.

She goes to hide for a bit longer, not wanting to have them know she’s caught them, then goes to her locker. Her project is back, but she can see how it is slightly smashed on the back, as if she’d pushed it too hard into the locker. Easily denied by them if she ever bothers to confront them, but not easy to fix.

She closes her eyes, sighs, and picks it up. Time to pick up the pieces, and do her best. She’s going to try to warn the faculty about it. She makes a note, one that she tries to make look professional and important as she can with disguised handwriting - the teachers and principal have shown they do _not_ care about her - and writing on the floor as a flat surface, and drops it into the office inbox as she walks by. It goes through the slot, and she can hear it land; a folded paper not showing what is inside, but stating it is for the principal and important on the exposed portion.

She’s just glad no one else is going to ride on the bus with her to the library - no need to go home when there is research to do - so she can focus on figuring out what to do about Sophia.

She heads in and signs up for a computer off in a private spot to see what to do about capes. But all she’s getting, now that she knows about this, is warnings not to unmask anyone. Villains kill the unpowered and their families, and the Heroes are ruined. The Protectorate and the Wards have prison sentences given to those who unmask them. Which is not good, since her glance through what powers known capes have reveals what Sophia has as Shadow Stalker. 

Well, maybe she can try calling, anyway.

Again.

At least this time she has the chance of it possibly working. Reporting wrongdoings of a public Hero is supposed to be encouraged. Not in the library, though. She doesn’t want others listening in. So she finishes what she should be doing before that, and then signs out and heads outside.

Searching for, and finding a payphone isn’t exactly the most fun she’s having, but she’s heard comments online that Earth Alph has been phasing them out entirely, so she’s grateful that’s not happening here on Bet.

The call lands her with an uncaring man who tells her not to waste their time with petty schoolyard things. He sounds like a former football player to her, but that could just be her biases showing. He’s gruff, wants her gone, and likely thinks that a teenager complaining about sabotage and that it’s happening by one of their Wards is a false report.

Great.

She doesn’t even bother to commit the talk to memory, and heads home.

\--

It turns out, telling anyone doesn’t help. Near as she can tell, things actually actively get worse. Not just for her, either. There are more people being beaten up by Sophia and several other people, but no one pinning anyone for snitching. 

She’s assuming that someone told Sophia, since that can be the only reason why the girl is upping her hostility. However, it’s clear that no one knows it is Taylor’s fault, and she’s keeping silent about that. While she wants Sophia to leave her be, that isn’t likely to happen anytime soon. She’s going to see about calling the PRT again, if more of her items end up missing.

If she has things broken again, it’ll be reported to the administration that parahumans are causing it.

Still, she can figure something out, and with luck, Sophia won’t be her problem anymore.

\--

Calling the PRT hotline still just has garbage, no matter how she approaches it. Taylor calls in, and gets obstructive people or she gets someone yelling at her about how Wards would never abuse their authority like that. She’s long since given up, and only sometimes sends in anonymous letters to the school administration.

Sure, Winslow doesn’t do anything to help, but she feels better about it. She’s also considering mailing in from the outside, and possibly doing the same with the PRT, she just needs to figure out how to do it in a way that can’t be traced to her. Even wearing gloves won’t help as she writes it. She’s seen a documentary where the PRT used tinkers to find out from disguised handwriting, and another where thinkers figured out from a printed one.

So, she’s not really sure how to send such a thing and not have things be dropped on her if it goes wrong. And it will go wrong. She’s learning things just never go right for her.

Case in point, currently, all of her notes for history are now destroyed.

She sighs, and picks up the torn up pages from the ground as Emma laughs at her, but doesn’t really react. Reacting just makes things worse. She can still feel how angry and sad she is, but she attempts to keep a stone face. It’s hard, but she’s going to try.

\--

Life goes on, and she keeps trying. At this point, she’s pretty sure that the office just shreds the letters on sight, but it gives her some sort of release other than her bully logging journal. She only barely cares, honestly, but maybe, someday, she will have this problem fixed. She even has most of the letters photocopied and sent to herself in letters she has unopened. She’s been actually mailing the things, and it’s just the work of a moment to send a copy to herself, anyway.

Something to have as evidence if anything comes up, she supposes.

Which is good, since she’s finding something rotten in Denmark. Rather, rotten in the hallways. She can smell it as she walks further into the school, in fact. It’s real gross. Part of her fears what she’s going to see, but she has to go in, if only because her locker is in a hallway near to her first class of the day, and walking through it is the straightest line. 

So she walks slowly to it (having accidentally cut herself through her jeans getting off the bus) and there they are. Sophia, Emma, and Madison.

This isn’t going to be any fun, and she knows it.

\--

When Taylor wakes up, it’s to a light touch to her hand, and her father holding her other one. Blinking, she can blurrily see Panacea - her robe making it obvious who she is, even without her glasses - saying, “-was a nasty blood infection. There was some malnutrition and she’ll be very hungry.” The girl looks at her, then back to her father, “Any other questions?”

Her dad shakes his head, “No, but thank you so much for this. If there is anything-”

“Alright, it’s fixed. The nurse will be finishing the paperwork in a little bit, having already prepared for me coming. Bye.”

With that, the slightly older girl leaves the room, leaving Taylor blinking and confused. Turning to her father, she asks, “What’s going on?”

He clutches her hand, “Well, after they found you in the locker, you were brought here, incredibly sick. You had a cut that got infected incredibly badly. So badly, in fact, that you were delirious and they had to bring in Panacea, as you saw.” He stares at her, “What happened? Did you see who pushed you into the locker?”

She blinks at him, and sighs. “Yeah, but nothing is going to be done about it.”

“If you know, then-”

She shakes her head, and says, “No, dad. Don’t. If you want, we can talk at home about it. But not…” She glances around, knowing about rumors of how fast gossip spreads around a hospital. “Not here, okay?” She could put it off even more, but explaining to her father that it’s a cape doing this and showing him some of her early - unpostmarked, from before she had photocopied looseleaf - letters, may just help. And the looseleaf ones, too, since why not? Anything will help. Maybe.

Not like anyone wants to end her suffering as it is.

He sighs, “Okay. We need to talk to the police, though. I can’t let this go.”

She shrugs, “We’ll see about that once you know what I know.”

He seems like he’s about to disagree, but the nurse comes in, looking happy, and explaining how Taylor gets to go home.

\--

Taylor sits at the table, stuffing her face as her dad looks at the loose letters, having read them multiple times. “One of your bullies is _Shadow Stalker_?”

She nods, and finishes chewing before saying, “Yeah. I’ve been calling the PRT randomly, and they keep calling me a liar, too. Like, all they can see is how she’s somehow a success story, and ignore how she regularly harasses other people in school.”

He puts the papers down, “We can’t let this stand, I’ll call up Alan-”

“Don’t,” she protests instantly.

“Why not?” he asks, already getting up, and walking to the telephone.

“Sophia isn’t the only one doing this, she’s just the only one with powers.”

He turns to her, “And why would that matter?”

Taylor fights herself, but when he turns back to the phone, she has to say, “Emma. Emma is also doing this to me. She has since the start of highschool.”

He freezes, turning to look at her, “And why didn’t you tell me?”

She stares at her food, but even this can’t stop the artificially induced hunger given by Panacea. She takes another bite, then says softly, “Remember how I had to spend forever over at Emma’s house since you wouldn’t do anything?”

He winces, “But I’ve gotten better, and-”

“Not… not really. You buy food, and make it, but neither of us… clean much other than generally.” She waves an arm at the corners of the rooms, specifically at the spiderwebs on the ceiling and walls.

That gets another wince, and he sits back down. “So… Emma?”

She nods silently.

“I should talk to Alan, anyway. See what I can do.”

She shrugs, knowing it won’t fix much. “I guess. But, uh, can you do it when I’m not here? I don’t wanna deal with this.”

“Give me the rest of your evidence. I’ll have it locked in a safe place, and see what all I can do. Including maybe talking to someone in the union.”

She doubts it will help, but she agrees quietly. Nothing gets fixed. Ever, and she knows it.

\--

Taylor isn’t really… happy. Going back to school a week later (the longest her father can drag it out to), Sophia and Emma are back on their bullshit. Add on how Taylor feels deeply unhappy, she’s not enjoying this. At least now, she has a new locker, and will be avoiding the old hallway. But Emma is standing next to it as she walks past the opening to the hallway, and so is Sophia. She can still smell the rot as she hurries by. She’s not sure if anyone else can, though, so it could just be her imagination.

But she heads to her class, her things now in her new locker, and tries to just… ignore what’s going on around her. Not that it usually works, but this way she can just be gone. Not there. Out. Still, somehow Sophia shows up, and knocks into her before she can go in, growling at her for avoiding the trap they were trying to spring, but also not actually _saying_ anything so close to the room Taylor is escaping into. 

She’s not exactly sure why Sophia and Emma both assume she’s supposed to walk right into a hostile situation. Especially when it should be obvious that she’s not recreating what happened at her locker _before_. 

Ugh, she feels sick. It isn’t certain if that’s due to her just being in Winslow, her brain saying she should have faked illness to get out so she’s actually feeling sick now, or if she’s genuinely feeling sick. It’s difficult to decipher such things, especially when she genuinely just doesn’t want to be here. 

She’s just glad that her first class is just… garbage she already knows. So she can sit and do programming while barely thinking about it. 

She can deal with the classes, and just… go home after. Maybe nap. Yeah, napping honestly sounds good. In fact, she decides as she finishes her assignment, she’s going to nap right now instead of browsing the internet. She doesn’t exactly care what all is going on online, and more sleep sounds amazing.

As she’s drifting she feels like there’s… something in her belly, but not _really_ in her belly. It’s odd, and if she pokes at it mentally, all she can think is how it’s unfinished, only barely started. She shrugs a little, and just… crashes. 

When the bell rings, waking her, she feels better than before; barely remembering how it feels like she has something in her, all she feels is the need to keep safe.


	2. Turns Out I'm Not Actually Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes, and now Taylor finds out she has powers.

It’s a month since the locker, and she’s been feeling like garbage all day. Currently, she’s laying on the couch, a blanket over her, and shivering and shaking. Snuggling further into the blanket, she scowls as the show hits a commercial PSA about violent capes and how to keep yourself safe. It wouldn’t be so bad, but she could really do without being talked down to about lies. No, she’s not going to the Protectorate about things like this, and no, cops aren’t her friends. They do not care about her, she knows this very well.

Give her back her cartoons, damn it.

Luckily, her dad comes in to distract her, walking in from the entranceway, and smiling at her as he hangs up his coat, shaking off a bit of snow from outside. “Hey, little owl. You doing a bit better?”

She watches him sit on the couch, moving her feet so he can. She tucks them closer to her, letting him remove his boots as she answers, voice croaking slightly, “Not really?” She coughs, voice clearer, “Still feeling sick, even if I haven't thrown anything up. I just… it feels like I should just stay put, since I feel worse when I move around.”

He reaches over, patting her hand, “Well, if you need to, we can go to the doctor tomorrow. You said you’ve been feeling kind of sick all month, it just… got all the worse today, right?”

She hums in agreement, pressing her face into her knees. “Yeah. Super sick, but not able to throw up,” which is punctuated by a wave to the clean ice cream bucket on the ground next to her, still untouched from where her father placed it this morning. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

That gets a snort, “That would be the illness talking, I think. You said you’re not tracking well, so just lay down and watch TV.” He hums, glancing at the screen, and she watches him frown, “How about we watch a movie instead of… this?”

She looks at the television and scowls. It’s essentially a PSA for the PRT, and they aren't exactly liked in their house now, for obvious reasons. Not even her dad calling does anything, so it’s clear there’s some sort of obstruction, even if they have no clue what is causing it. 

“Yeah, a movie sounds good. What would you like?”

He stands up, walking over, “I’m the one who should be asking you that. You’re the sick one. How about….” he slides his fingers along the DVD cases, tugging out one that he shows to her with a grin. “Eh?” he wiggles his eyebrows at her, waving it slightly.

“Yeah, Muppet Treasure Island is good. Let’s do that.”

He puts it in, and starts to load it up. But a little after the menu is fully in place, Taylor gags, suddenly feeling even sicker than before. Abruptly, she grabs her stomach, and feels an inevitable pull, a feeling she’s unable to resist. Her shirt is yanked up, exposing her belly, and she can only stare in confusion as a hole rips open, exposing a mouth with sharpened teeth, a monsterous tongue, and it coughs, hacks, and gags. As she and her father stare in shock, it … vomits up a large … thing, and closes up. 

Taylor stares blankly at her stomach, and pokes it where there _should_ be a bellybutton, but isn’t there now. The mouth opens up, and she can feel how her mouth… her second mouth is there, and she absently licks her fingertips. It’s wet, it’s slimy, and it is just like a large mouth licking her, or tiny fingers in her mouth.

“The fuck…” she mumbles, wiping her hand on the couch, and turning to see what she spat out. It seems to be a… child looking scared. Oh shit, this is bad. This is real bad. How did this happen? Has she eaten a kid in her sleep? What is going _on_?

She stands up, wobbling, and then promptly falls over, back onto the couch. She can feel her breathing going faster and faster, not really able to control it. She can also feel another, smaller, portion of herself screaming, but the child is also now screaming, and-

She blinks as her father pulls her into a hug, and the child is _also_ on her lap, being held with her. “-okay. Calm down. It’ll be okay. Let’s figure this out. You don’t need to worry. Deep breaths, and calming thoughts. I’m here, it’ll be fine-”

She gasps at the same time as the child, who clings to her even tighter, then starts to breathe properly, slowing down and letting her dad’s voice calm her. Eventually, she’s not sure how long, she can finally focus, her father petting her back. 

Finally, he says, “Well, turns out you’re a cape.”

She blinks, “Ah… I guess so?” The kid snuggles into her lap, curled closer and she instinctively wraps her arms around them, petting their dark hair. Something alights in her brain, but she ignores it, just trying to not freak out worse than she already is. “What the hell is going on.”

He shrugs, “I’m not sure. How about you tell me? Capes are supposed to know these things.”

She shrugs, “I don’t… I just…” she lets herself focus on what she’s been feeling but ignoring. “Ah… I think she’s part of my power?” Taylor can just tell now, that the kid is a little girl.

He looks at the kid, and nods, “I’d assumed so, especially since she instantly dove to you and curled up. So, what is going on with her?”

“She, uh, seems to have her own powers?” He looks at Taylor, expectant. “Like, um, I can feel that she can feel me, and-” She glances down, “Ah, dad?”

“Yes?”

“Can you get her clothing?”

He blinks, looking at the kid, “Oh… right. Wow, I didn’t notice in the rush and stress.” Her father stands up, “Wrap her in the blanket for now, but I’ll go check for some older clothing. Maybe just a shirt to put on her, then.” He stands up, and pats Taylor on the head, “I’ll be back as fast as I can with the shirt. We can look for better clothing after we have things settled.”

She nods, and wraps the kid up, who doesn’t protest or argue. She mumbles, “Can you even talk?”

She gets the impression it can, but not more than what she makes the kid do. She can feel how she can … control the child. She experimentally tells her to raise both hands, which happens. Wiggle a leg. Climb off the couch. Dance.

She watches as the kid does an awkward approximation of the Macarena, blanket draped over her like a loose toga.

She then has the kid say what she’s thinking, “What the fuck is going on?” 

Her dad comes down, holding one of Taylor’s older shirts and a braided belt that can buckle at any length because the holes are just the belt itself. “No swearing.” He pauses, blinking, then walks over, “Was that you saying it?”

She nods, “Yeah. Sorry. I just….” She waves, almost helplessly as she has the kid walk closer. “Yeah….”

Her father stares down at the kid, tilting his head with a small frown, “She looks kind of familiar.” He hands her the shirt and belt, “Not really sure who, though.”

She shrugs, and puts the shirt on the kid as her dad turns away. “If you say so.” Her hand holds the kid’s and she tilts her head, “Uh…”

“Yeah?”

She blinks as information and how to change her floods her, and just a few instantaneous tweaks, she lets go, taking off her glasses. “So, I think I figured it out, and you can turn around.”

He looks at her, frowning, “Who does she look like?”

Glancing down at the kid, she says, matter of fact, “Amy Dallon. Better known as Panacea.”

\--

Taylor is brushing little Amy’s hair as her father walks in with a small bundle of clothing. Handing it to her, he says, “Snowing pretty hard now.”

She glances out, “The television said something about a blizzard. There’s also talk of canceling school, but they aren't sure about it.”

He sighs, “Have you fed her yet?”

She shakes her head, “She’s not hungry. Or thirsty. I had her drink some water, but almost instantly, she spat it up without me being able to stop her. I don’t actually think she’s real. Not like that.”

“Odd.” He touches Amy’s head, and makes a face, “What in the world?”

Unable to help her slight girmance, ”I know. It’s terrible to touch. I suspect that Panacea uses a two in one shampoo. I’m not sure if I can fix it, but I’m going to try. If she’s static, then it’ll stay this way, but if I can at least do maintenance and repair….”

“I hope you can. Even I wouldn’t use two in one.”

She snorts, “Not after you tried to use it on me, and mom read you the riot act.” She remembers that argument, and she was only six. 

He chuckles ruefully, “She goes off for a weekend, we run out, so I buy it, and she returns to throw it out and yell at me for it.”

She rolls her eyes, “And then she-” She blinks, shaking her head and setting Amy on the floor, this isn’t important. She’s glad that they can talk about this, but she’s suddenly remembering how to fix Amy’s hair. “Actually, yeah. I’m gonna get her changed, and grab my conditioner. See if I can do with her what mom did with me.”

“I’ll make us some dinner. You’re feeling better, right?”

She nods, “Yeah, I am. No longer so sick.” She toys with Amy’s hair, “She fixed me up, but I was already feeling better, not sick, after spitting her out. I think the, uh, incubation was making me feel bad. The seed of her being not playing well.”

“Seed?”

“It’s kind of how I’m picturing how I made her. She was a seed I was growing, until she’s out. An offshoot of the original. Like a plant cutting. Twig. Clone. But I like the name offshoot best for what she is. She’s not Panacea, she is just _like_ her. A child that belongs to me, but not… not like that? You know?”

He shrugs, almost helplessly, “I do, but it sounds odd. Is she a plant?”

“I have no idea.” Tilting her head, Taylor looks at Amy, “But it gives me an idea.” At her father’s curious look, she says, “If she comes outside with me, which she will eventually, I need to call her something that isn’t Amy.”

“So what do you call her?”

“Amaryllis. It could be shortened to Amy if we slip up, and it’s a plant name.” She can feel her expression soften, and she touches the little girl’s face, her offshoot echoing as she says, “My flower.”

Her father looks uncomfortable, “If you say so, Taylor. You said you’d get her dressed?”

She blinks, “Ah, right.” She snags her flower’s hand, and they walk to the bathroom, the bundle of clothing under Taylor’s arm. 

It is quick work to strip the oversized shirt off and replace it with a better sized one with a cheetah on the front, arms with a cheetah print. A quick look shows that there are no genitals of any sort, and a tug up shows no belly button - like her own lack - nor nipples. Like a living Barbie doll, actually. She shakes her head, but it does show why Amaryllis won’t eat or drink. 

Still, she’s curious if her flower matches her, and rubs the girl’s stomach. She watches the mouth there open up, and it is just like moving her own. She hums, closing it, and puts on the matching cheetah print pants on Amaryllis, having her pick up the conditioner as she stands up Taking her offshoot’s free hand, they walk downstairs. 

Sitting at the couch, she adds the conditioner to Amaryllis’s hair, and starts to work it in with a brush. Her father says, “That took longer than I thought it would. Is she moving on her own, or…?”

Taylor works on her flower’s hair in silence for a long moment, finally saying, “No, I just found out some surprising things.” She doesn’t wait for his reply, just informing him what she’s found out. 

He comes into the living room, carrying a cleaned carrot, and hands it to Amaryllis, “Try eating this with Amaryllis’s tummy mouth.”

She has her offshoot stick it into her mouth, chewing and eating it all easily. She hums, still working in the conditioner, “It isn’t really… food? It just feels more like she’s storing it inside of her, rather than anything else. Like, if she really needs to, it can be used to supply her power, but that’s purely incidental.”

“How about you?” He holds out another carrot, “How do you do when you eat one like that?”

She shrugs, having Amaryllis take it and place it under her shirt, letting Taylor chew on it. “The same, I guess. Like it’s just storing it there, but could be taken out? I’m not actually sure if I can keep anything there for too long if I’m incubating a seed, though. It feels like I can’t.”

“But she can?”

She shrugs, “It seems like?” She looks at him, “Can you get a plastic bag? I wanna wrap her hair.”

He nods easily, heading out and coming back with one. As she wraps it to protect the hair, he says, “How far away do you think you can control her?”

She stares down at Amaryllis, “I’m… not actually sure? I don’t think I really have one, but it could just be that she’s so close now. I wouldn’t know, not unless we drive me or her to another place, and I don’t want to do that when it’s like,” she waves out the window, snow coming down, “that.”

He sighs, looking out the window himself, “I think we should check. No one else is really around, and I can drive her as she’s in the back seat, and you finish making dinner.”

She nods, understanding. “And what about shoes? All she has is socks.” She demonstrates that by having Amaryllis take them from the couch and slipping them on. 

“I’ll carry her.”

She shrugs, “Okay.”

She heads to the kitchen to work on the chili her dad has going, and she can feel and see as he scoops Amaryllis up, putting their coats on, and heading out to the car. It’s a bit cold out, but feels a little muted, less cold than it would be for herself. She’s not sure if that’s just because her flower can’t feel like a normal human, or she’s getting it filtered through her connection. It’s next to impossible to know, honestly.

She has Amaryllis stare out the window, buckled in with care. Saying casually as she looks, “So, dad, where we heading?”

“As far away from our house as we can be, while still being in the city. Nothing too far out, but still not too close.”

She hums agreeably, letting her flower just… stare out the window. The soup is cooking, and she regulates the burner to a lower flame. This will keep, and she has more than enough time to do other things.

Like homework.

Her father turns the car around and back home when she’s almost done with her english essay, asking, “Nothing?”

“Nothing. I can control her just fine.”

“We’ll see about you on one edge, and… Amy on the other.”

“Amaryllis,” she corrects, looking up at the back of his chair, kicking little legs. “It’s Amaryllis.” She stares at those tiny hands, the ones she can tell can shape all living matter to her will, and all she can feel is… love. How she loves this small creature, from her and of her. Fragile and in need of protection. 

Oh, how she wants Amaryllis to be her own person, her own living being. To have her happy next to her and held close. Those tiny hands touch the plastic bag on the top of her head; to clean out her hair and see if the damage is fixable. She just wants Amaryllis with her, and it tears at her to have her so far apart.

… Something to think about.

She can have Amaryllis far away, but she doesn’t like it. It makes her think, unconsciously having her offshoot hold her chin in her hand, head tilted. She’ll be able to go to school, leaving Amaryllis home, she just won’t like it. However, it is clear she can focus on more than just one thing, seeing as how she’s still working just fine on her homework and this.

She spends her time as Amaryllis staring out the window, and thinks, as she checks on the soup. She wants to ask her father if this is what he felt, having her, but she can’t. It’s not… It isn’t the same, but it feels it. She’s only fifteen, and now she has her offshoot, who she loves deeply already. 

She stays silent, listening to the radio with her father, unwilling to break the silence between them. When her flower returns, she will wash her hair, and hold her close. But that is in the future, and now she just says nothing at all.


	3. Time To Pick A Fight

Turns out, no snow day. 

The roads are plowed, and there are clouds grey and threatening, but no snow falls. Part of her feels like she should take up running, but that can be a thought for later. Right now, she kisses Amaryllis on the forehead, and holds her tiny hands. Taylor looks up into her own eyes, filled with love and care. Tiny fingers squeeze her own, and she has to say softly, “Be safe. Please, be safe.”

She can’t help but reply, in that small mouth, “I will. I love you. So much.”

Her heart melts, “I love you, too.”

She reluctantly breaks away, shoulders her backpack over her coat, and hurries out of the house. She has Amaryllis double check the door is locked, and then has her go to her room, sitting and settling in to read. 

The ride to school has her solidifying her thoughts to test her power on the only parahuman she knows of, and has easy access to.

Sophia.

Not exactly the smartest or safest target, since she’s sure that if the Protectorate knew, then they’d do… something to her. Perhaps the birdcage? She’s not sure of that, she’s not dangerous. In fact, her power is impossible for her to attack others, as long as she has her offshoot - she absently has Amaryllis hug herself - away from her, she’s just a normal human. 

She puts it out of her mind. Time to get roughed up by Sophia, and make it count. 

For once, she’s not dreading her time at Winslow, not when she has a plan. The best part of this plan, is all she has to do is do what she always does. It isn’t like Sophia needs to be encouraged to touch Taylor. The girl takes joy in violence and pain. 

But soon enough, that will be exactly what she needs to get a nice copy of Sophia’s power.

At least, it should be a copy. Amaryllis goes to the television, going to check the news, but only after being sure the curtains and drapes are closed so no one can see inside the house. As Taylor steps off the bus, there’s no talking of Panacea not working. She’s not sure if that’s being hidden, or this even is somehow stealing a power.

Well, if anyone deserves to lose her power, it is Sophia. And she can’t see how to return the power, if she took Panacea’s. If she’s honest, though, stealing the power of the top parahuman healer is news to be shouted from the rooftops about the horror of it. As such, she’s significantly less worried. She has Amaryllis pull out some papers, and absently doodles cape outfits. Nothing too elaborate, since she’s not really sure how she’d make them yet, but it is something to do as she keeps watching the news. Just in case.

She will live, should Sophia loses her powers. Life will likely be better for everyone if Sophia has no powers, in fact.

She is feeling kind of smug at the idea of Sophia suddenly being without powers, her offshoot stealing them. As unlikely as that is, she still imagines it, and finds herself smiling at the mental image of the girl trying to stick her hand into a locker and just slamming it into steel. It’s so nice, she imagines it several more times.

Which is how Emma and her little gang of bullies finds her. She only vaguely pays attention to them, mostly focusing on how the news is now doing a fluff piece on how Panacea spent most of last night in the hospital, healing car crash victims. Part of her relaxes, and she waits for Emma to get finished before walking by and heading to her locker. 

Which is, unsurprisingly, where she finds Sophia. The bitch is leaning on Taylor’s locker with a smirk, then moves out of the way as Taylor gets closer. Which is unfortunate, she’s kind of hoping that she could push the girl a bit, encourage skin contact. 

But instead, she opens her locker door, and sighs at the sight of a ripped up book. The one she was going to use as a backup for reading as she eats lunch, if the one in her backpack is destroyed. At least it’s just one she got for a quarter at the library. She can see the huge ‘withdrawn’ stamp ripped though. 

Well, time to pick a fight.

She snags the book, and turns around, forcing herself furious, “Why do you always do this, you-” She deliberately cuts off, unable to stop her little angry grinding scream, knowing calling Sophia a bitch would possibly get a teacher poking their head out and she gets in trouble. Not what she wants. She wants skin contact, and being dressed down by an idiot who can’t do their job means that won’t happen.

And it’s always Taylor being caught and punished, never Sophia. Even if Sophia is assaulting her. She needs to get a way to record this sort of thing happening. Maybe use offshoot Sophia to set up a camera on her locker? Possibly figure out an anonymous way to upload the video to PHO or something.

But that’s a thought for the future, especially since Sophia gets closer, pushing her, “Because you need to learn your place, Hebert.”

Good start, but not good enough. It’s too bad it’s winter, or she could have worn a t-shirt. It’s too cold in the school to not wear something heavier, or she’d have tried anyway. Not that it matters all that much, she’s still in her coat. “My place?” she snaps, knowing her anger about this garbage is bubbling forward. “Being beaten up by a thug who-”

She’s shoved again, “Don’t you call me a thug.”

“You’re the one shoving me!” she yells, hoping this will mean that she does get hit, and possibly bring teacher attention. Doubtful, but there it is. Amaryllis is toying with one of the papers she’s holding, ripping at the edges.

“Because you need to learn to stay down.” No shove this time.

“Stay down? After you shoved me in a fucking _locker_, and no one will do anything? You’re such a fucking bitch that-”

And there we go, that’s the punch, right to the cheek. 

Ow.

Her head hits her locker, and she lands on the floor, teeth loose, head ringing. Fuck, this is way worse than she’s planning. Why does pain always have to be worse than the memory of pain? This is garbage.

Sophia stands over her, kicking her lightly, “Stay down, loser.” Then, the other girl walks away, sneering.

How she hates her.

She gathers up her stuff, and walks away. She’s gonna stay home, and if a teacher calls her out on it, she does not give a single fuck. 

So when one of the teachers, probably an upper class one since she has no clue who this is, stops her from walking out, she yanks away, and glares. “Young lady!” the teacher snaps, crossing her arms.

She snarls, “Don’t you ‘young lady’ me! You control Sophia Hess, and her need to punch people. I’m going home and contacting my father about your inability to stop assault on school property!” Not really, since she knows nothing will happen, but hey, they have a camera at home. May as well use it.

And she has Amarillis to keep her company. That’s good.

The teacher just stares after her as she stalks off, heading to a different bus stop that isn’t so close to the school to go home. Maybe, if she’s lucky, that teacher will confront Blackwell or Sophia Hess, and something will come up. However, Taylor isn’t lucky. She never is.

The ride home has her going slightly dozy, and she can _feel_ how a seed is growing. She pokes and prods at it mentally, seeing if she can speed it up or work on it so it changes. Nothing yet, but it doesn’t seem to be protesting too heavily at being sped up.

So maybe she can do something with that later on.

For now, she just wants Amaryllis in her arms, holding her close.

\--

Taylor’s dad walks in to her holding Amaryllis in her arms, and Amaryllis playing with what could charitably called a plant. He walks over, “So, how was school?”

“I went, got punched by Sophia, came home. Bitch knocked a tooth out of my head.”

“I do believe you, but you look just fine, little owl.”

She reaches under the coffee table, and puts down an unsealed envelope on the top of it. “Got pictures of the damage, and the tooth in there. Also, remember, Amaryllis is a copy of Panacea.” She has Shadow Stalker’s seed incubating now, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t want him calling her on it at this moment in time. Just focusing on the damage. Which is actually not as bad as she’s saying or has in the polaroid pictures her father is paging through. 

Amaryllis is amazing at shaping flesh to her will, and forcing a bad tooth out on that side and regrowing a better one is as simple as wanting it. Just like changing brains, so she’s not sure if she makes jailbroken clones, since Panacea can’t do brains, or Panacea is a liar. Either way, she doesn’t think she’s going to be saying her flower can do that.

The idea of literally changing minds is… daunting.

So she just lets Amaryllis … play with a plant, and it is comforting. Her father groans, “I’m going to seal this and set it in the post office mailbox. Do you want to come with?”

She stands up, “Okay. Your granddaughter needs shoes, anyway, and we can go pick those up.” She looks down at her offshoot, who holds her arms out at her father. 

He doesn't even think about it, he takes her flower from her arms, holding her just right, “Okay. Sounds good.” He kisses her flower on the forehead, “And a cute granddaughter, she is. So you think of her as your daughter, then?”

She takes the plant from Amaryllis, setting it on the table, and walks over to put on her own shoes. “I do. I think it will be the same with any future ones, too. Also, we should also pick up more clothing for her. I think from a thrift place would be best. I don’t think she’s gonna get any bigger. At least, she doesn’t feel like she will.”

“You’re the one who’d know, Taylor.” He adjusts her offshoot comfortably, “You have anything cooking? I smell something.”

“Crockpot. I just tossed in the makings for chilli. We have crackers and shredded cheese already. I thought that we should use them. Especially since the cheese’s date is getting close.”

He nods, watching her lace up, and they head out. “We should get her a safety seat. I think there’s a legal thing about this now? I need to check.”

“I can do that after school tomorrow. Head to the library and check it out.” She also needs to research how to care for a black girl’s hair, since she’ll be taking care of Sophia’s offshoot as soon as she can. She’s already pushing it to hurry up, and it’s doing its best. She doesn’t feel sick now, at least, if only because her flower will fix her with a touch.

“If that’s what you think is best. Do you want to take Amaryllis with you?” he asks as they all get in the car, and he starts it up.

She wasn’t planning on it, but now that she's being asked, “Yes. I do.” The want is the operative word in the question, and her heart aches with it. They head out of the driveway, and make their way through the plowed roads.

“Make sure no one realizes what is going on, then. Try to act like a child with her.”

She hates that, but she does get it. But she can have her flower read a book as she does research. “I’ll do my best.” Just not have her read anything too complicated. Or maybe dig out a headphone splitter and bring earbuds. One smaller window with a video to watch as she does her other research. Pretend Amaryllis is watching something with her.

That should make it easier, and have people not think much about how well behaved she is. She’ll also need to study how kids do things, but she’s… not gonna do that right now. Maybe take Amaryllis and whatever she’s naming her next offshoot to the park. She doesn’t know yet. 

She mentally adds on clothing for her offshoot that will double for the both of them. “We need some more shoes.”

“Why?” Her father’s voice is light, curious.

“I did say Sophia punched me and knocked out a tooth.”

He taps the steering wheel with his fingers, “... right. I should have remembered. Okay, more than one pair of shoes. How many, do you think?”

“Let’s get three pairs, just in case. I don’t want to be blindsided if I get an offshoot without realizing it.”

“Understandable.” He sighs, and pulls next to a blue mailbox, next to a building, not the street.. “You run over and drop the envelope in. You have copies, right?”

“Of everything but the tooth, but I took a picture of it, alongside the other pictures, so to categorize it.”

“Good.”

She hops out, hurrying to the mailbox. It’s a simple drop, and she’s back in before long at all.

Her dad drives, asking, “After the thrift shop. How about we all go to the library? Been awhile since we’ve gone there together.” As a family, since mom. 

She glances behind her, at Amaryllis, who she’s letting absently stare out the window. “I… I think I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

He smiles at her, “It’ll be nice.”

“It will.” She looks at the road, “But we’ll need to do the thrift store first.”

He hums agreeably, and they settle in for the rest of the ride. It’s a comfortable silence, and she feels just fine leaning in her chair, watching clouds in the sky go by, in both sets of her eyes. Part of her vaguely wanting to point out the shapes. She indulges it, and lets Amaryllis express it, the words almost seeming to come from her offshoot entirely. It’s calming to talk about dogs, dragons, and lions all fluffy and in the sky.


	4. Clothing and Getting Buff

They make it to the thrift store and walk in, Amaryllis on her hip, and the person up front glances at them - mostly at her flower’s sock clad feet - before shrugging and looking away. With the acceptance of ignoring the ‘No shirt, No shoes, No service’ sign, they head in to get some shoes.

She has Amaryllis help them look, and every time something about the right size catches her flower’s attention, she grabs it down. They end up with about eight pairs of shoes, and they sit to put them on Amaryllis. Her flower sits, looking curious, as they tie them up, and have her walk in them. Taylor instantly nixes two that are much too big, and three that are too small. It leaves three, one of which she thinks is gaudy, but she can almost feel a flicker of interest in Amaryllis.

They’re bright pink with glitter and sparkles all over them. Shiny, flashy, distracting. She doesn’t like them. Besides, they’re on the edge of too big.

She makes a note to put them on Amaryllis before they leave, after paying for them.

Next is clothing.

Her dad leans on the cart as she chooses various clothes, putting them against her flower to check sizes. Soon enough, there’s a small pile, and she takes Amaryllis into the changing room, checking on each of them and how they fit. Some placed in a pile to be rehung, replacing the hangers. While the ones that fit and she likes remain to the side, and the hangers gathered to be placed in the box outside the changing room. She _wants_ to leave Amaryllis in a super cute outfit, but she removes it and puts her already owned clothing back on.

She kisses her flower’s forehead softly, and they come out. She gives her dad the ones they’re buying, and puts the unwanted ones on the return rack, making sure that the clothing won’t fall off the hanger. She sighs when she sees several on the _floor_, and picks it up to place it on the rack, too.

Her dad smiles at her, “Anything else?”

She glances around. “Should we buy things for ourselves? I can keep Amy with me.”

“Yeah, we can do that. I need a few ties, anyway. See if there’s anything good.” He pokes her lightly, “New clothing for you, too.” He glances at her, “Maybe some shorter sleeves and things?”

She nods, “Yeah, I can see that.”

Maybe she can… Hmmm….

She takes Amaryllis’s hand, and they walk to clothing for her, and she has her flower work on her, changing her fat to muscle. It’s like working out without any of the sweating! She has abs now. It’s great.

She takes advantage by sliding off her hoodie, and choosing more revealing shirts. Nothing _too_ tight, but still, nice ones that she can use to show off her new muscles. Once she has several things, they head to the changing room, and she narrows it down, the same way as before.

After hanging up the returned clothing, she finds her dad, dropping her clothing in the cart, “All ready.”

He looks over from his examination of a set of plates and bowls, “Okay, let’s go pay.”

The line is short, and the moment the shoes are inputted, she snags them to place on Amaryllis’s feet. Her dad says, “Those aren't really what you usually like.”

“But Amaryllis does,” she says, smiling down at her flower.

Her offshoot looks at her shoes admiringly, and her father tilts his head, “They’re nice on her.” Taylor isn’t actually sure of that, but it’s okay. She just… she feels like her flower likes them, so she’s getting them.

She sets Amaryllis on the floor, taking her hand, “Let’s head home.”

Her dad gives her an amused look, “Not to the library?”

She flushes, having forgotten, “The library, right.”

“Library,” Amaryllis murmurs softly.

Ruffling her flower’s hair, she sas, “I think you’ll like it, Amaryllis.”

“Amy,” her flower says slowly.

That’s… weird. She doesn't actually think she had her offshoot say that. Pushing that thought away, she turns to her dad, who is paying for their clothing, “Should I go to the car or help carry?”

“Carry,” he informs her. “Amaryllis?”

“Yeah?” her flower says, head tilting.

“Walk close as we carry.”

“Okay….”

Taylor picks up the bags as her dad thanks the cashier, and they walk out. Once everything is in the car, Taylor buckles up, saying, “So… I think Amaryllis may be her own person? Kinda?”

“Kinda?” her dad asks, and Amaryllis mumbles softly in the back seat, a soft echo.

“... I’m not sure. She seems to like some things, and is kind of repeating stuff. But I can tell she loves her shoes.”

Her dad hums as they get on the road, clearly thinking. After a bit, he finally says, “Maybe it’s your powers. We can test more later. I saw she was playing with that plant. Anything else?”

“Yeah, I got muscles now. It’s pretty cool.” She isn’t gonna admit that she flexed a bit in the mirror. That is for her to know, and no one else to ever find out. Ever.

He nods slowly, “Think that could be done to me?”

“Easily.”

He smiles, “Something to do once we get home. After the library.”

“Right.”

\--

Taylor leans back, eating her bowl of chilli, and watches her dad do some one handed pushups, “This is amazing!”

She nods, “Yeah, it’s instant fitness. Better than my plan to just _run_ everyday. Like some chump.”

He snorts, standing with ease, “And my knees and back don’t ache.”

“Yeah, what happened with your left knee, anyway?” It was pretty messed up, but not enough to make him limp as he walks.

He sighs, “Union buster got me with a crowbar, but since the union forced medical, the insurance paid to fix it. Ultimately, everyone hurt got fixed, and the companies trying to bust us had to pay out.”

“I was hoping it was a cape fight.”

He shakes his head, “No. Most unpowered people _die_ if a cape comes for them. Brockton is lucky we have a healer in the hospitals. I heard of one guy that…” He shakes his head, “Let’s just say that the Marquis was not kind to his enemies.”

“... oh.” She’s not really certain how to really respond to that. She changes the subject, “I’m speeding up the incubation of Sophia’s seed.”

He takes his own bowl, refilling it from before, “How long do you think it will take?”

She frowns, thinking about it, “Well I’m not actually sure. A week to two, I think. Likely?”

He hums, thinking about it, then says, “You said before that you didn’t think you could put anything in the mouth while incubating, did you test it?”

“Yeah, and it made me really sick. I can't carry anything in it.”

“Is it like a gag reflex?” At her nod, he asks, “Are you just putting it in your mouth, or under your tongue?”

She stares at him, “What does that have to do anything?”

Her father’s amused look is not making her feel any smarter, “Do you know how they smuggle pills in mental institutions?”

“Why would I know that?”

“Exactly. Get something, put it under the tongue.”

She has Amaryllis pick up a spoon and hand it to her. She does as her dad asks, and… nothing. “It’s just… there? Kinda uncomfortable, but just in the way that there’s a metal thing under my tongue.”

“We can design something that is waterproof, not sharp, and puncture resistant. That way you always have something hidden that you may need, and it fits with the most comfort.”

She hums, thinking about it. “I … may need to learn how to sew.” She looks over at Amaryllis, then her stomach, “Something tells me I’m not gonna stop wanting to get more offshoots, and being able to sew will bring up less questions than buying more and more clothing. No one comments if you suddenly have a new hobby.”

He hums, “Would you enjoy it? You’ve never shown an inclination to before.” Her father waves an arm, “I’m not against it, since your grandmother, on my side, did it a lot, and I think I could get you a sewing machine. I still have her patterns stored away in a plastic tub in the basement if you want to help me find it.”

She perks up, “I am done eating now.” She sets her empty bowl on the table, standing up.

That gets a snort, “You do that. _I_ am going to finish my own. I’ll be down afterwards, if you want to hurry along.”

She shrugs, “I’ll do it. Come on, my flower.”

“You can’t call her your flower,” her dad tells her mildly, watching Amaryllis walk over to her. “It’s a bad habit to get into, if we’re taking her out in public.”

She sighs sadly, nodding, “Yeah, I get that.” She beeps her offshoot’s nose, “Little flower.”

“A very good nickname, little owl.” He grins as she gives him an irritated look, but doesn’t say more.

With an eyeroll, she heads to the basement, and starts pulling things out. Most of it isn’t all that important or great, so she just puts the boxes or tubs to the side. By the time her dad comes down, she’s still searching.

He picks up a box, “We’re gonna need to find more plastic tubs. Cardboard just is a bad thing to store stuff in.”

She shrugs as Amaryllis rifles through a tub of what looks like an old cloth but turns out to be baby clothing. Too small for what she needs, and mostly just things clearly meant as keepsakes. It’s cute, but not anything she has an interest in.

She closes it for her flower, opening the next tub. “Do you think there’s a sewing machine down here?”

“No, I don’t. We’d have sold it, if we had one. We’ll get one later, don’t worry.” He pauses, looking at her with a frown, “You know, if we can figure something out, we may be able to get a home computer that won’t just make you angry using it.”

She scowls, thinking of the computer in the office/guest room. “I hate it, and how slow and terrible it is.”

“I know. I do just use it for taxes,” he laughs.

Taylor huffs, pulling down another tub, “And it is so bad.”

“We’ll figure something out, I’m sure we could afford a new computer.”

“But the sewing machine? Why a computer inste-”

“A computer means you can order child clothing patterns online.”

She freezes, nodding after a few seconds, “And If I keep getting more, like I am sure to….”

“Someone will notice. We’ll need to be careful. We’re being careless with Amaryllis as it is. Best not to have that happen, and to stay safe. You said you have Sophia already, and if we show up with a black child….”

Her flinch is involuntary, but she has to concede the point. “We’ll be inviting the Empire for it.” And they already don’t need that garbage, since she has powers. They have so many capes, and she will more than double them just by them grabbing her.

Her stomach turns at the thought, the mouth on it screwing up unhappily, her tongue twisting.

He nods, opening a box and pulling out what look like paper packets full of tissue paper, “Exactly. And I’ve found the patterns. I don’t think they’ll actually work, though.” He demonstrates, pulling it out, and the paper just falls apart in his hands. “I’m disappointed, but unsurprised. They’re several decades old, and were already fragile.” He picks up the box, “Let’s put the rest back, and we can see if any of them are usable. If not, you have a tub to fill with new ones.”

They put things back in their places, “We’ll see how it goes. I’m not sure how well they’ll work if they’re all like that.”

When they’re upstairs, Taylor checks through each of them, and pretty much every pattern just falls apart in her hands. The paper is fragile, and even the carefullest of handling isn’t enough. Ill storage in a cardboard box didn’t help anything, but she gets the impression that the paper would have been destroyed just by age.

She throws away everything, including the box, and says, “I guess I could figure something out.”

Her father shrugs, “I’ll talk to the guys in the union, see who all has a sewing machine they’re willing to sell. I’ll also go check on computers after work.” He gives her a sharp look, “You will have to go to classes, though.”

“I was already planning on it.” She won’t be letting Emma win, even if she really does hate school. She only came home because of the excuse of being in a fight. Still, “You sure we can’t do homeschooling?”

“Do you think you can pass the exams, or that we can pay for it?”

She glances down at Amaryllis, who is making a miniature fruiting tree, and just sort of… sighs before wrapping her arms around herself, “Maybe?”

He comes over, hugging her with care, head on top of hers, “I can get some money saved up. We’ll see what we can do.”

“What if I have Amaryllis and I mask up and we charge for healing? Maybe more for doing what I did with us?” Taylor has the girl move over and join the hug.

Her father instantly scoops Amaryllis up from the floor, and they both hold her, “We’d need a lawyer, since it would likely have you and her kidnapped or killed.” He pets Amaryllis’s hair, “But I’m not sure how that would work out.”

She closes her eyes, just staying in the hug to be as comfortable as she possibly can, “A… consultation wouldn’t hurt, right? Those are free. Seeing if they would work with us, and so on.”

He hums thoughtfully, absentling petting her back, and Amaryllis’s hair. It takes a long moment, but he finally says, “Yes. I’ll look people up tomorrow, but they likely won’t be open on Saturday.” He gives her a sharp look, “But you have to go to school on Monday. All day. No skipping. We don’t need them looking in and realizing you’re parahuman. No attacking them, since they may suspect you are one.”

She winces a little at that, “Yeah. I… uh, probably shouldn’t have goaded Sophia into a fight, either.”

That gets a snort of laughter, “I don’t actually blame you.” Amaryllis is set on the floor, Taylor directing her back to playing with her tree. Her father continues, “But none of that at school.”

She sighs, “Yeah. I get it. Just remember, I can do healing, and charge for it, so we can use that.” Pulling away, Taylor frowns a bit, “Why doesn’t Panacea charge for her healing, anyway?”

“It’s on the New Wave policy page. All their hero work is to be free of charge, no matter what. Donations are fine, but they have a cap on how much they accept in a month. They then have lists of charities that each member supports, so you can choose what to donate to.”

She hums, thinking about that. “Well, if we start making enough money, maybe I can donate to Panacea’s favorite?”

“If that’s what you want, honey.” He kisses her head, “Whatever you think is best.”

She grins, “But first, we should maybe take care of the house and homeschooling, right?”

He snorts, waving a hand. “We’ll see what we want to do.”

She yawns, glancing at the clock, “Getting late.”

“Let’s clean up, and we can go to bed.”

With that, she helps her dad put action to words.


	5. Maggie, Sophia Escalates, and Lawyering Up

The weekend is short, and school garbage as usual. Her father only telling her he’s working on things. So when it hits Saturday again, she’s happy about that. Even if she’s feeling miserable, and Amaryllis’s diagnoses informs her she has nothing wrong with her. There’s an increase of brain activity, and her stomach is a little odd. She strongly suspects this is the same as with Amaryllis, so she isn’t worrying too hard.

She lays on the couch Amaryllis loose in her arms, as her offshoot chews on some gum. While her flower can’t eat, she can chew things. Why not give her flavor to enjoy. Well, Taylor enjoys it, and the small flicker she feels in Amaryllis seems to, too.

Abruptly, she’s gagging, and … out comes a second offshoot from her stomach mouth, and she just kind of stares at her, belly exposed, large mouth open and tongue lolling a little. She manages to sit up, Amaryllis’s soft pat to her bare skin helping orient her. She blinks a little, and looks over at the Sophia clone.

Who… looks nothing like Sophia. 

Staring at the… creature in front of her, she places Amaryllis to the side, and holds open her arms, directing her newest close. Scooping her up, she inspects this obviously inhuman thing. 

A bird, really. Wings, scaly stick feet with claws tipped on the end, a beak, and two large eyes. She’s pitch black with white markings along her. The eyes are oriented in the front, how a human’s are, but they look vaguely cartoonish for it. Not at all how a bird typically looks. Other than hawks, she supposes, but her little bird doesn’t look like a hawk at all. More a clever corvid.

A magpie.

She runs a finger along her newest offshoot’s beak, gentle and loving, feeling it happen as she does it. She hums softly, then kisses her beak with a soft fondness. “Maggie.”

Maggie sticks her tongue out at her, then Taylor’s attempt to have her talk comes out as a sort of whistling warble. Melodic, really, but not at all like any bird Taylor has personally heard. Maybe her dad would know?

Maggie doesn’t move much as Taylor inspects even more of her, only to get into a better position to look. Her wings have an odd kind of hand on the end, tipped lightly on each finger with small claws. Her legs jointed in the way a bird’s are. Taylor thinks it is digitigrade, but she could easily be wrong. The feathered tail is soft and interesting. As Maggie moves, the light hits her, making her black feathers shine a pretty blue. Her white feathers are also shiny, but don’t seem to shine with anything but white. 

Pressing a hand to Maggie’s belly reveals a mouth, just like Amaryllis, human with teeth and a tongue. Curiously, Taylor sees if this will work. “Testing, testing,” comes Maggie’s human voice from the mouth.

She hums softly, “Well, there we go.” 

Tilting her head, she looks at Amaryllis, having her tug up her shirt, showing off the mouth. “And me?” Same voice as from the mouth in her offshoot’s head. 

She chuckles softly, “Looks like I can do more than I thought.” She doesn't need to speak aloud, not really, but it feels like she should be talking to someone. Yes, Maggie and Amaryllis don’t exactly have their own will - the flashes from her flower might be her projecting and she’s only just gotten Maggie - but she’ll do what she likes. “And what I like is talking aloud,” she says, this time from her own stomach mouth. 

It sounds… weird, actually. Kind of deeper than she expects? It’s odd.

Part of her excitedly plans on how she can use it to be a hero and no one will ever know it’s her, but a glance at Amaryllis and Maggie has her heart tighten in her chest, since she’d need to take _them_ with her as she does. No crime fighting. That’s not happening. She tugs Maggie close, hugging her, and shakes a little. 

They’re so small, and if they fight, they could easily be badly hurt. She’s not going to let that happen. 

Part of her wants to have more, though. Like she _needs_ more. How much safer and better it will be when she’s surrounded by her little twigs. Her offshoots have powers that she does not, and it will keep her safe, and her far away from anyone who will hurt her. Keeping all the ones she likes best next to her.

But right now… all she has is Maggie and Amaryllis. They need to be kept safe and away from those who will hurt them. They need to be with her, if not at all times. As much as they can.

She presses a kiss to Maggie’s beak, murmuring, “I’m glad you look like this. You’re perfect how you are, okay?”

“Okay,” she has Maggie say, making her heart lighter. 

It’s going to be okay, of course it is.

\--

Monday after school, she limps in, whimpering softly when Amaryllis opens the door for her, and flops down on the couch in the living room. She has Amaryllis numb her ankle down, and then lets her offshoots gather things to make her a sandwich. She’s going to need food for this, and the ability to focus as she documents the damage. 

She should _not_ have been walking on it, but there’s not much she can do. Having Sophia slam a door on her fucking _ankle_ just as she’s leaving school is a nightmare, and all the worse for the taunting as she endured as she made her way to the bus. It’s a mass of bruising and badly damaged. 

She stares at Amaryllis longingly, but has Maggie go to the phone, calling up her dad. 

He answers with his typical greeting, but she has Maggie cut him off with, “Dad, I need you to come home. Please. Come home now. _Please_.” She’s only not crying because it doesn’t actually hurt.

“What’s wrong?” she can hear his chair slam into a wall, likely from him jumping up at her pleading. “Tell me what I need to do!”

“I need you to pick me up and take me to the hospital.”

“What about…” he trails off, unable to say her flower’s name. 

“We need this recorded. I want that bitch in a ditch, but I’m going to take jail time for her as an alternative. Come _home_, dad. I need to go to the hospital, and I shouldn’t have been walking on this.”

“I’ll be there. I love you so much, Taylor.”

“I love you, too.”

Nothing to do but wait and then deal with a violently broken ankle. Great.

\--

The next day, bright and early, they bundle up Amaryllis and Maggie, hiding Maggie’s beak to the best of their ability, and pile into the car with various supplies in a few bags. Her broken ankle feels just fine due to the top notch numbing that Amaryllis applies, the painkillers placed safely in a bag, but also untouched.

She doubts she’ll need them, but they can’t be obvious about what is happening.

The law firm they go to is the same one that Alan works for, but the man is in a different part of the building than where they’re in entirely. It’s a chore to make her way with crutches and her exposed toes are cold since they don’t have anything that will protect them while they’re in the cast, but they eventually make it. 

It isn’t long before they’re allowed into the lawyer, a Mrs. Laverna Martin, a woman who mainly deals with parahuman issues, like where a parahuman injures or abuses someone, but also other things to better hide the identities of capes, so they aren’t outed. Making their way in, the woman looks at them, “Oh, this was not what I was expecting when you said you wanted me to represent you, Mr. Hebert. I was expecting…”

Their lawyer stares when Maggie removes the clothing covering her face. The poor woman looks even more surprised when Maggie says, “We’re mostly here to see about parahuman business, but also the injury lawyer, too. It’s part of what makes you such a good fit for us.”

“... Well, let’s talk and sit down, shall we?” Their possible lawyer shakes Taylor’s father’s hand, and they all eventually settle into the various chairs. Amaryllis in Danny’s arms, and Maggie in Taylor’s. She doesn't want the temptation to heal herself. The woman continues, “Now, how about you tell me what all this is about?”

Taking a deep breath, Taylor looks at Mrs. Martin, and starts to tell her sorrow filled tale, all while taking out the various pieces of evidence she has. The loose papers are inspected, the sealed envelopes approved of and left alone, and the other evidence poked through, along with a deep scowl at the x-ray of Taylor’s ankle.

“And you say Shadow Stalker did this to you?” Mrs. Martin taps a finger on the x-rays, looking at them seriously.

“I had it happen as I was leaving school, several girls laughed at me as I limped to the bus, and others watched but looked away when it was clear I needed help.”

“... I see.” She hums softly, “So I’ll see what I can do about that, as long as you’re planning on hiring me. You did say you were going to do consultations with others. See who would do best in your case, and-”

Her dad cuts Mrs. Martin off gently, “With what just happened, you are the best in this case. You’re also an injury lawyer, and we now have extremely firm evidence of my daughter being badly injured. We even held off on the parahuman healing we can apply to-”

“You have parahuman healing available?”

Her father holds up the still bundled Amaryllis, “Right here.”

Mrs. Martin looks at them, “So… you have two case 53’s, one of whom can heal-”

“They aren’t. They’re an expression of my power. I…” She glances at her dad, and holds Maggie closer in her lap, she knows that the lawyer can not legally talk to anyone about what she’s about to say, but is still scared of saying it. “I’m a power copier. I touch a parahuman, and incubate the seed inside of me, and when it is done, I spit them out of my stomach.”

Mrs. Martin stares at them for a long moment, and then asks, “Is… your healing, ah, copy, is she Panacea?”

Taylor shares a look with her dad, and he tugs the hat and scarf off Amaryllis, “She is a copy of her, yes, but that is not her name.”

“Is your copying her why you chose me, and not Carol Dallon?” 

Shaking his head, Danny says, “No. Mrs. Dallon is a prosecution lawyer. She won’t be any use to the problems we have, not like this. We want Shadow Stalker punished, those responsible for my daughter’s injuries to be financially broken, and for us to safely market Taylor’s offshoot’s abilities. Possibly have her copy others, if she can.”

Lavera Martin looks them over, “Mr. and Miss Hebert, I certainly believe I am able to take this case.” They perk up at that, but she adds, “You may want to hire more lawyers, though. If the PRT is hiding this… we do want to get Carol Dallon on the case. We’ll need to be open about it, but from what I gathered, that first copy of Panacea was an accident. Am I correct?”

Taylor nods, “I was healed by her in the hospital, like I told you. She just touched my skin, and then left. I only really found out about my powers a month later. That’s where…” She points at Amaryllis, having her flower wave happily.

“I think we’ll need to go more in-depth about the copying, and how long things take, but I can get you compensation for injuries, and set up a business for you with your powers.” She gathers the papers up with care, “For instance, if you can _make_ a human and a case 53 from humans, what will happen if you copy a legitimate case 53? Testing is required, but as we do that, we can work on your case.” She stands up, “Let me see what all I can do, make photocopies of the various evidence, store it in a more secure place than a house safe, and get in contact with Carol Dallon. I will have you meet us when I have things ready.”

Standing up, Taylor’s father moves to shake Mrs. Martin’s hand, while she carefully rewraps up her offshoots, kissing them each on the forehead. Standing up herself, Taylor asks, when she’s sure the adults are done, “Should I even go to school after this?”

Mrs. Martin shakes her head, “I’m going to work on getting a restraining order for you, I have a good case that the level of harassment will make it court mandated. As such, until then, inform the school you are out on an injury. Don't tell them what or how, I will have them served for neglect, and I don't want them warned.”

“O-okay.” She looks down at Amaryllis before returning her attention to their lawyer, “Should I keep the broken ankle?”

Mrs. Martin looks at her for a long moment, “I will… talk to Mrs. Dallon first. Keep it healing naturally. I’ll also arrange for a case 53 for you to make an… offshoot of. That’s the word you used?”

“Yeah… I just.. I like that name for them.”

“I will keep that in mind. Do you have one in you now?”

She closes her eyes, focusing on how it felt with Amaryllis and Maggie. “I’m… not. Not at all.” She frowns, “Even though Sophia grabbed me and we touched skin to skin.”

“So you likely can only duplicate one of each parahuman. I’ll keep that in mind. We may have you go through official testing programs, depending on how the PRT acts with your suit. Do you have any other questions?”

She glances at Amaryllis, and she can't stop herself from asking, “Would you like Amaryllis to make sure you’re in peak shape?”

Mrs. Martin glances at Taylor’s father, who smiles brightly and shrugs as he says, “I let her do it with me, and it’s helped a great deal. I’m more active now, and I have a six pack.”

Taylor flexes a little, careful of her crutches so she can walk safely with her ankle, “I do, too. It’s great!”

Mrs. Martin holds out her hand, “I am willing to try. Just heal me, though. No alterations.”

Shrugging, Taylor has Amaryllis walk to their lawyer, and touch her hand. Instantly, she fixes up a starting ulcer, bad knees, bad back, buildup in arteries, and lots of little problems. When finished, she has Amaryllis pull away, saying, “All done. You sure you don’t want to be buff?”

“... Wow.” Mrs. Martin stretches a bit, moving fluidly, “I think… we can hold off on you doing that until next time. It’s clear that I may need to bring in more people to set up pricing for the healing you will provide.” She pauses, looking at them, “That’s what you want, right?”

“Yeah!” She says cheerfully, while her dad is more subdued in his agreement. She reaches down, patting Amaryllis on her little head once she’s back to her place next to her, “I want to be able to get people healed, but also don’t want anyone to think that I can just be forced into doing so.” She glances at her leg, sighing, “I was kind of hoping to do a little bit of volunteer work, too, once we got lawyers, but that won’t happen until you give the go ahead to let me heal my ankle.”

“And I will do my best to make sure you’re able to do that as fast as possible.” She looks at Danny, “Anything else?”

“No, I think that’s it,” he says. “We will contact you if anything comes up.”

They shake hands again, and once the pleasantries are out of the way, Taylor makes her way out to the car with her family. She’s buckling herself into the seat as her father does the same with her offshoots when she says, “We should get baby seats.”

“Not baby seats, child ones,” he corrects gently, checking the tightness on Maggie’s seatbelt. “I checked, and there is a difference. We’ll see what we can do.”

She relaxes in her seat, having her offshoots look at each other, and has them hold hands as she says, “At least I don’t have to go to school tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know what Maggie sounds like, look up an Australian magpie. I chose that since it was the best sounding of the magpies, and because it made a friend of mine happy. 
> 
> And the reason why Sophia went as far as she did, was because even if Taylor doesn't realize it, she's acting happier and more confident. Sophia had a bad weekend, so took it way too far, thinking that since Taylor hasn't done anything before, and the school sure hasn't, she'll get away with it. She did not realize she broke anything, since Taylor was stumbling and walking on it, not curled up and screaming like she thinks someone as weak as Taylor is should have.
> 
> If you're not glancing at the threads on SB or SV, you probably should, since I'm putting art I've done on of Amaryllis and Maggie there.


	6. A Visit From The Crew

Taylor mutters softly as she works on measuring according to the directions on the sewing book Amaryllis is holding and looking at for her. She hisses in soft frustration as Maggie’s feathers get in the way, “I think we’re gonna need to go with those long renaissance sort of sleeps, the bell ones? Whatever. You know what I mean. Those will let you use your arms.” 

Maggie puts her hand on Taylor’s nose, then drops it, since it is more annoying than playful, and while Taylor assumed cuteness, she does need to get this working right.

She sighs at her tape measure, and keeps following the directions the best she can. Thankfully, it doesn't take too long, so she can measure Amaryllis next. She’s about to check how round her flower’s stomach is when the doorbell rings.

Sighing, she drops what’s in her hands, letting her offshoots clean up as she heads downstairs awkwardly. Stumping a little painfully down the stairs, she starts heading to the door, and scowls when there’s a second ring. “I’m coming!” 

Glancing through the window, knowing she’s not easy to see due to the type of curtains they have, she frowns. She… does not actually recognize who is there. It’s a man and a woman. The woman has a scarf over her face and a hat, only her eyes showing, while wearing a long black skirt and an oddly bulky looking coat. The man is rather obese, also in a scarf, but his coat is better fitted to his body than the woman’s. Knowing she can’t just ignore them, since they seem to be gearing up to ring the bell again, she reluctantly opens the door slightly, making sure they realize there is a chain that keeps the door from opening entirely.

“Yeah?”

“Miss Hebert?” the woman asks, voice calm.

“Who’s asking?”

The man chuckles a little, his hands in his coat pockets moving a little, only to stop when he remembers his hands are in them due to it being cold. While the woman says, “Ah, I’m Miss Fitts. I was told you were expecting me?”

She stares at the woman, “Who the f-” The phone starts ringing, “Hold on!” She rushes to the phone, forgetting to close the door, and limping painfully. She’s regretting not having Amaryllis put more numbing on her now, but she must live with her own stupidity. Grabbing the phone, she says, “Hello? Kind of busy!”

Her father says, “Taylor? How are.. No, sorry. Are you okay? You seem stressed?”

“My stupid ankle hurts, and there are people at the door, and I-” She glances over to where the door is, and groans, “I left the door open with them there.”

“Is it a Melanie Fitts and Gregor? Mrs. Martin arranged for them to visit, and I’d forgotten to tell you.”

She stares at the people, where they’re looking at her through the gap in the door, “Uh…. how can I be sure it’s them?”

“Get a notepad and paper, and call the number I give you. That’s going to be theirs.”

“Okay,” she says, and writes it down, reading it back, her Dad confirms it, and they hang up. The moment she hangs up, she calls her dad, “Dad!”

“Taylor? What? I just talked to you and-”

“What did we talk about, this is super important.”

He sounds a little frustrated, “Taylor, I’m about to get food, but okay. I just told you to call the number I gave you, and call Melanie Fitts. I know you wrote the number down, I confirmed you had it.”

“Say the number again.”

He groans, but repeats it back at her, “Is this what you-”

“Thank you, dad,” she says, relaxing. “I just… What if it’s a Stranger situation? You _just_ called as they got here.”

“It would be scary, I get that. You stay safe, Taylor. All they’re doing is coming in, you touch Gregor, who is the case fifty-three is with her, and they leave. Keep Maggie and Amaryllis out of sight unless they ask after them. I was warned you may need to show off your offshoots if asked. Love you.”

“Love you.” She holds the phone to her ear until she hears him hang up, then calls the number he gave her. It rings on her end, and by the door. 

She sees the woman moving a bit, and hears from both the door and phone, “Melanie Fitts speaking, yes?”

She shuffles a little in embarrassment, since she can see Miss Fitts looking at her through the gap, “Just making sure you’re who you say you are. Let me get the door open and let you in.”

She can see Melanie hang up her phone, so does the same as the woman calls through the door, “We are glad you have some operational security, but leaving the door open how it is to start with, isn’t a good call.”

She goes over as fast as she can, pain radiating out from her ankle to the tips of her toes and up her leg. Opening the door, she says, “I’m not used to this yet.”

Miss Fitts steps inside, the man following. Taylor shuts the door as the woman starts to shed outer clothing, hanging them up on the hooks for such things, and helps the man do the same. 

Watching them nervously, she hates how the pain is getting worse as she trembles and forces herself to make her way to the couch. Flopping down, she says, “I apologize for not getting you something to snack on or drink, but I’m currently…” She trails off, shaking some more. 

Fuck, she needs Amarllis to give her more numbing. Or maybe have Maggie bring down her pills, if she can.

Miss Fitts shares a look with the man, and says, “We’re fine. It’s clear you are not, though. Would you prefer we reschedule? We can-”

“No. Just… I need my medication, and I can't do that at the moment. I might once we get down to business, though. Please sit down.”

They both sit, Miss Fitts on a chair closest to Taylor, and the man sits further away, clearly doing his best to not make his large body look intimidating. Now that he’s no longer wearing the scarf, she can see little brown growths on him that look hard, and his fingers gnarled with the same growths but as fingernails. He smiles at her, closed mouthed, but doesn’t move any closer nor further away. 

Miss Fitts extends a bare hand, “I’m Mel, I was told-” She cuts off, seeing Taylor edge away from the hand. Putting her hand down, a little awkwardly, she says, “I was told that you have a case fifty-three here?”

“Uh, no. I don’t. She isn’t a case fifty-three. She’s, um ….” She doesn’t want to say a monstrous parahuman, since it is so wrong to call her lovely little birdy a monster. Not when she’s so pretty and so so so good. “I don’t know what you’ve been told.”

“You have an underage cape who has been mutated. Could I see her?”

“Okay,” she says softly, and then has Maggie hurry to her room and grab her bottle of unused pills. Having Maggie read the dosage as she heads down, Taylor debates taking more, only to decide it is best not to. She calls out, “Maggie!”

With that fakery out of the way, Maggie hops down the steps, and hurries to hand her the pill bottle before rushing to the kitchen.

Looking at the both of them, “She’s getting me water for my medicine. Would either of you like something?”

They both give refusals, and Maggie returns with her water. Taking it, she fumbles with the pill bottle, only to give up and return it to Maggie. She has Maggie warble out a sort of laugh from her song, and open it for her. Her hand is shaking too much, so Maggie passes her a pill, and she swallows it down with half a glass of water.

She whimpers softly, saying, “S-sorry. My ankle is broken, and it really h-hurts right now.” She lays on the couch, and elevates her leg on the other arm of it. Maggie moves pillows to best support it, patting her softly. “What di-did you want with my Maggie?”

“Could I talk to her, please?”

She twitches as the ache in her ankle does _not_ go away. “If you want? Not like it’ll do much, you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

Melanie smiles, “Ah, finally admitting it? Good, no more charades.” She stands, walking to Maggie, and picking her up, “Your lawyer said you control her?”

Hurts too much to think easily in her own body, so she focuses both on Amaryllis and Maggie instead. Amaryllis is walking down the stairs now, while Maggie says, “I do.”

“That talking… didn't come from her beak.”

Maggie clacks her beak irritably, “No, the voice is here,” and tugs up her shirt, exposing her stomach mouth. “See?”

“That is… surprising.” Melanie sits down, setting Maggie on her lap and inspecting her with care, “I was told you copy powers, but not how. Who is this?”

Ignoring how rude the woman is being, Taylor sighs in relaxation as suddenly, all her pain goes away. Amaryllis pats her lightly before climbing into her arms to cuddle. 

Finally, the large man says, “Is that… a miniature version of Panacea?”

She stares at him, “Yeah. That,” she has Amaryllis point to Maggie, “is Shadow Stalker. I don’t think I can legally tell you more about how I got Maggie, other than she … took less time to copy than Amaryllis here did to produce. I’m not sure if the lower time is how she became like that, but I suspect that’s the reason. Shadow Stalker is completely human looking.” She mutters softly, looking away, “For all that she seems to be a card carrying demon.”

The man walks over, holding out his hand, “I am Gregor. The woman who contacted us said that all you would do is touch me, and that would be that. She specified she wanted a case fifty-three to touch you.”

Melanie adds, “It’s why I offered my hand earlier, to test and see if you truly wanted to test this.” 

It’s more she had been in horrible pain, and touching someone isn’t on her idea of a good time. “... right.” She reaches for Gregor, and carefully touches the man’s hand. Since she’s concentrating, she can _feel_ it take. She relaxes, placing a hand on her belly, “There we go. I’ll have him ready in about a month.”

“A… month?” Melanie sounds incredulous. “That seems impractical.”

She shrugs, “It is what it is. I could hurry it up, but then we won’t know how it works.”

“Can you get a _second_ one in addition to the one you’re already … incubating?”

She blinks, “I… I don’t know? I’ve never had another to touch at the same time, so…. Maybe?”

Melanie holds out her hand, “Here you are.”

Not sure if she should, Taylor finds herself reaching out and taking the willingly offered power to copy. It feels like it should be a momentous occasion, that she should celebrate, but all she can do is pull away, and murmur, “More than one, yes. I think....” her head tilts, eyes a little blank, “three is likely the most I can do at once. That feels about right.”

Melanie sets Maggie back on the floor, letting her birdy rush to Taylor and hug her. The woman smiles, “And you fully control them?”

“I do. But they’re… they aren’t toys or minions or whatever you’re thinking. They’re…” Her throat closes, unwilling to admit what she feels, knowing it is something a fifteen year old girl can’t say. Not without being accused of so very many horrible things.

“They’re your children,” Gregor says. He reaches over, petting Amaryllis’s hair, “Perhaps you will not consider them so when surrounded by a great deal of them, but now these are all you have. I am happy that my clone-”

“Offshoot,” she corrects quietly.

“That my offshoot will be considered family to you. I ask to be allowed to meet him.”

She opens her mouth to accept when Melanie adds, “I would, too. And I think I’ll bring Elle here to see how your offshoot does with her.” Melanie looks at her, “But if I bring her, it is just because I approve of how the Gregor offshoot is.”

Taylor nods, blinking, “Okay.” She thinks her pain pill is kicking in, since she feels surprisingly floaty. “I wouldn’t hurt him. He’s mine.” She hugs her stomach, having Amaryllis and Maggie rub it, “I love him so much.”

Melanie looks at Gregor for some reason, then back to er, “Have you eaten, Taylor?”

She shrugs, “Dunno.”

They both talk in low tones, but Taylor can vaguely make out “food” and “I’ll go.” It sounds like they’re arguing about staying with her? Something.

She turns over on the couch, and cuddles Maggie in her arms, having her birdy sing to her. She blinks in surprise as a blanket is placed over her, and a warm hand smoothes down her hair, “Amaryllis, can you please lock the door behind us?”

She has her flower give a thumbs up, and follows behind them. They’re all covered up, and she locks it easily when they step out, waving before she does. When they’re gone, she has Amaryllis climb into the couch, and they all fall asleep slowly.

\--

Taylor blinks awake to the sound of the door opening, her father coming in, and putting his outer clothes on the hook, “Taylor, how did the meeting with Faultline go? I’m sorry I didn’t have someone with you, but Faultline is known for being scrupulously fair.”

She rubs her eyes, “It was okay, I guess. I hurt a lot, and had to take one of the pills. It made me fall asleep at the end, but I had Amaryllis lock the door when they left.”

He moves over, kissing her and the offshoots on the forehead, “I’m glad it worked out. Well, I assume it did?”

She stretches a bit, dislodging Amaryllis from her lap to huff as she lands on the floor. Her father rights her flower as Taylor says, “Yeah. I found out I can add more than just one to how many I can make. I get the impression I can do three, but no more unless something goes terribly wrong.”

“Wrong how?”

She shrugs, unable to say. It could be possible, but it’s not something she really knows how to do. “Dunno.” She glances around, “Um, I only ate breakfast, can you make something?”

“No problem, sweetling. Do you need to sleep more?”

She can feel sleep calling her, but she seems rested enough. “No, more hungry than anything.”

“Alright. How about you sit at the table, and tell me what you did today. Spare me no detail.”

She laughs, grabbing her crutches, and standing up. Making her way to the table, she says, “So, after you left, I set to find that old sewing book. The one that says how to make your own patterns?”

“Yeah, I do. I still need to get you more official patterns, but go on.”

She settles in, and happily recounts all she’s done. It’s so nice to just spend time with someone who loves her and only wants her happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot it was Tuesday, since my usual plan for Tuesday got so messed up. But now we have something important to know. Taylor can queue up more offshoots. How very helpful, don't you think?


	7. Sharing Secrets

Taylor stares blankly at the wall, completely still. She has Maggie and Amaryllis playing patty cake off to the side, but that doesn’t truly distract her, not really. Her father rubs her back, “It’ll be fine. Laverna had them sign NDA’s and warned them that if they made you too upset, she will have them removed.”

Her stomach turns, and she can feel her tummy mouth bite and nibble at her lips, unable to stop. “I guess.” She’s heard of how scary Brandish is, and she owes Panacea so much for just healing her. It’s like she’s spitting in the girl’s face, showing up with a broken ankle, and a clone of her. 

She hides in her hoodie, touching her cheap mask on her face. It feels insincere to do it this way, to avoid showing off who they are until their lawyer says they can remove the masks. Not that Maggie can hide who and what she is. 

She absently has one arm go shadow, Amaryllis’s hand going through it. The both of them giggle in their own ways. Amaryllis cute child giggling, and Maggie warbling along. She stares at them, feeling content. She doesn’t notice how one hand lands on her stomach, and she just holds it there as she watches her offshoots. When she sees them doing anything, there’s a feeling of contentment that spreads through her, and a surge of protectiveness. She wants so much to just have them with her for as long as she can.

Her father wraps his arm around her shoulders, and she leans on him comfortingly, and her body slowly relaxes, little by little. It’s good that it happens, since the door practically slams open, making her feel like a cat whose tail almost got stepped on. Her father, her offshoots, and her all stare at the door in shock. 

Panacea stomps in, scowling deeply, deep dark circles under her eyes, “I don't get why _I_ have to be here. I could be doing other things, like working in the hospital.”

“You work too much in there as it is. I don't want _another_ call in the middle of the night telling me you snuck out to go heal idiots with a stomach ache from eating too much, or idiots coming in drunk.” The older woman strides in, looking tired, “You know, like _last night_? I got a frantic phone call from-”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry I just…” the poor girl slumps in one of the empty chairs, “I can’t stop healing. I… I gotta-”

“You ‘gotta’ get more sleep, and go to _classes_, young lady.” Taylor can _hear_ quotation marks around ‘gotta’ clang into place. 

Amy throws her arms up in the air, “I know, I know! You said this already! In the car! I-” Panacea cuts herself off, taking a deep breath, “I just always feel like you’re… ah… um…” The girl looks over at them, and Taylor raises her hand and wiggles her fingers in a hello. Panacea, almost robotically, mirrors her, saying, “Maybe… we shouldn’t have this conversation here.”

The woman, who must be Mrs. Dallon, looks at them, and mutters almost too soft to hear, “Damn it, Laverna. Why didn't you warn us?” She then walks out the door, slamming it shut, but Taylor can hear the footsteps stomping down the hall.

Taylor coughs a little, and gets up, walking over to the girl, “H-hello. I’m Root.” A temporary cape name until they decide on a better one. 

Panacea sighs, “You want me to heal you?”

She blinks, then glances at her leg, “No. I need to keep it for legal reasons.”

“Then put your hand down. I hate feeling someone who’s hurt and I can’t heal them.”

She drops her hand, “Right, sorry. I’m….” She glances over at her father pleadingly, and he jerks a thumb at her offshoots. Looking back at Panacea, she has her offshoots over, “Okay. This is Maggie,” she points at her birdy without looking at her, “and Amaryllis.”

“Alright?”

“May I please heal you?” she has Amaryllis say.

“What the fu-” Panacea cuts herself off, “Alright.” She holds out her hand to Taylor’s flower, “So what are you gonna do? I’m perfectly fine, since my powers keep me healthy.”

Amaryllis fixes some damage to Panacea’s lungs that seem to have been done as a smaller child, like she was exposed to a smoker for a few years and couldn’t leave to another place. Then her spine, slightly out of alignment, but now no longer pinching nerves. A general tuneup to everything else. While, finally, getting rid of all that tiredness. 

“Would you also like to be in peak physical health?” she asks, just as the door opens, Laverna and Mrs. Dallon walking in. Ignoring them, she continues, “I can do that. Amaryllis made it so my dad and I are completely healthy, and I can do sixty pushups in a minute.” Not that she’s pushing herself when she does that, but she’s not mentioning that. “I can also have her make you other things, if you want.”

Mrs. Dallon interrupts, “What is this about?”

Laverna sighs, “Sit down, Carol. We have lots to cover, and I can tell you won’t like some of it.”

“How about we start with why I need my daughter with me.”

They all sit back down, settling in to talk comfortably. Taylor explains her triggering, and needing to be healed by Panacea, which is how she copied the other girl’s power. For some reason Amy looks nervous about that, but doesn’t say anything when Carol has Amaryllis give her a check with her powers. Nothing seems wrong at all to her, and in fact she seems more like a younger woman than she should be, early twenties, in fact. 

She happily informs Carol of this, including how well Amy must be doing to keep the family as physically healthy as she can.

Carol, for some reason, scowls at this. The woman snaps out, “Do you do more than she does with this useless little copy of yours?”

Instantly, Taylor’s expression shutters into expressionlessness, the insult to her dear Amaryllis too hard to take. “Near as I can tell, I get exact copies of a person’s powers. I would need to speak to her and compare, but I would like to do that while I go get things and you talk to my lawyer and my father about the case I have against the PRT. Thank you.” She stands up, heading to the door, “You coming, Amy?”

Amy takes one look at Carol, and hurries over to her, “I’d love to.”

They walk out, and her offshoots hurry next to them just before the door shuts. She nods at her birdy, “Could you pick up Maggie and help me cover her up? She’s a little… obvious.”

“Right.” Amy bundles Maggie up, getting help from her offshoot to do it properly, “How’s that?”

“Great,” Taylor gives the other girl a smile. “How about we head to the vending machines?”

“Sure.” Amy sets Maggie down, and takes both of the offshoot’s hands, one in each of her own. They walk a little, and Amy finally says, “She… she didn’t mean it like that.”

“She insulted my… I…” She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, “They mean the world to me. They’re family. It’s clear she meant they were nothing, worse than trash. To be used and tossed if they don’t do what _she_ thinks is best. Unless she apologizes and means it, I can not stand to look at her.

“They are my world, Panacea. I do not trust, not easily. After how I got my powers, it is difficult to trust anyone my family hasn’t approved of beforehand. I trust Laverna because she’s doing as she was asked to do, and my father researched a great deal of others. She was the only one who seemed to fit, and now she brings in your mother. Who spits upon my kindness. Just after I was explaining how wonderful of a job you have done to keep her healthy. I saw how you mirrored one kidney with the other, replacing what must have been very horrible damage.”

Amy looks away, “She, uh… she got stabbed in the kidney, and I had to salvage the whole thing, since it was so badly ruined.” Amy’s throat tightens, she can see it in Amaryllis’s power scanning her, “She … she didn’t mean to insult-”

Dropping a crutch, she reaches over and wraps her now free arm around Amy, “She did. You know she did. Amaryllis could feel you start to lie.”

Amy stares up at her, blinking, “O-oh. Yeah… she…” Amy coughs, not pulling away, “She insults a lot of people, then assumes that it doesn't matter if she hurts someone, since she can get away with it.”

“I noticed.” She hops a bit on one leg, moving them so they’re now leaning against a wall, Maggie grabbing her crutch to put it to the side safely. Rubbing the girl’s side, she says, “I take it you’re one of the people she insults a lot.” 

Taylor’s already low opinion of Mrs. Dallon drops even further when Amy says softly, “Yes.” She’d say it bottoms out, but expects the woman to hit the ground and start digging. Which is exactly what happens, when Amy continues, “I heard her talking on the phone once to my aunt, about how I’m going to turn out exactly like my father. My biological father. I’m… I'm adopted.”

She hugs the girl carefully, “And I take it she heavily implied your biological father is evil?”

That just gets a head nod, and Amy burying her face in Taylor’s chest. Rubbing the girl’s back, she has Amaryllis adjust her body so she doesn’t hurt from holding so much weight on one leg for so long. No need to interrupt a crying session, not when it’s clear Amy needed to tell _someone_ this. 

She just wishes she knew why it’s her.

Taylor is… pretty much a stranger that showed up, told Amy that she copied her powers, got mad at her mother, and stormed out of the room. Not exactly the best person to pour out a secret to, but Taylor guesses there could be worse?

She really wishes they were in a chair, though.

Thankfully, it isn’t long before Amy pulls away, sniffling, “Sorry. I just… I…” the girl coughs, looking down, “I’m sorry.”

Patting her side, Taylor says, “It’s fine. You need the release, that much is clear. How about we get to those vending machines? Amaryllis can help clear your sinuses so you aren't stuffy, if you want?”

“Please,” Amy leans down a bit, letting Amaryllis tag her. 

The walk is short, and they get some drinks and a small packet of cookies to share. They end up in the corner of a hallway, tucked away out of casual sight, Maggie and Amaryllis peeking out as lookouts just in case anyone will interrupt them, sitting on the floor as they talk. They avoid talk of Carol, but end up whispering to each other about what their powers can do. Taylor confirming that, yes, she can do everything that Amy can through Amaryllis, but Amy has a moral code she sticks to. No brains. 

Something she has no true problem agreeing not to reveal to others. 

And she carefully explains about how Shadow Stalker caused her to trigger, along with all the other garbage involved. As she’s quietly explaining about how she has Maggie, Amy hugs her. Blinking, she asks, “What’s this about?”

The other girl looks worried, and starts to move away, only for Taylor to hold a little tighter. She’s confused by the hug, but it isn’t like it’s a bad thing. Relaxing at that, Amy says, “It’s just… you had so much shit poured down on you, you didn’t deserve it.”

“You don’t deserve Carol being so mean to you, either.”

“She… isn't. …Is she?”

She can’t help her grimace, “She had an argument about how you act in front of strangers, makes you feel like you’re going to turn evil, and… I could go on.”

Amy sighs, staring down at her lap, “Yeah, but Vicky and I are planning on moving out the instant we graduate Arcadia. Vicky’s doing her best to get great grades, and so am I. She’s going to go to college, and is already taking college level classes to help with that.”

“And how are you paying for it?”

“I…. I guess get jobs? Loans?”

“You can do what I’m planning, and start charging for healing.”

“I can't do that!”

“Why not?”

“It’s… it’s… not what a hero would do?”

“Amy… you are going and healing people who don’t need parahumans healing them. Curing cancer is important, but you said you go out and fix people who break a bone because they pissed off a hero by attempting to rape someone. That kind of thing? Absolutely needs them to deal with a broken bone or five. Maybe they’ll learn their lesson.”

“I can’t just not heal people.”

“I never said that. I meant once you’re out from your mom’s thumb, start charging for healing. If you want, come to me and my dad when you do, and we’ll help. Since at that point, I’ll be doing it professionally.”

Amy looks thoughtful, “I think… I might do that. I would still want to show up and do free healing every so often, though.”

“Good call, I’m planning on-” She snaps her mouth shut, and taps a finger to Amy’s lips, and both of her offshoots duck in to hide against them. 

Tucking further into her hoodie, she watches silently as Alan Barnes walks by, arguing into a phone, “-do you _mean_ my daughter can’t get out of-” and he fades away before they can hear more.

She has Amaryllis poke her head out and glance down the hallway. Once she knows it is clear, she says, “Okay, I was… okay. I am also planning on doing some free healing, too. My suggestion is to just do it on certain occasions. Christmas, memorial day, and so on. Days you think are important. For me, I’ll probably do more than that until I’m better known. But we should always be prioritizing the worst off people. We’re the only ones who can cure cancer, right?”

“That I know of, yeah.”

“So focus on that. Heal those that no one else can for free, and only on certain times. Or just on a whim. I know that if I do it, I may decide to go in on a random day, likely prearranged with whatever hospital I’m visiting. Or if someone is dying in front of you, then feel free.”

“Okay, I get that.” Amy stares at her thoughtfully, “I’ll… talk about this with Vicky, and see how we feel about it.”

“Just tell her how doing it constantly is killing you. I could see how the stress was ruining your health. If she’s as focused on being a hero as you say, then she may not understand. Not unless you tell her that. If she’s any sort of sister, she would prefer you healthy and happy to slowly dying as you work through a job that’s so high stress people commit suicide. And they get paid.”

Amy winces at that, “Yeah, a good point.” She pokes Taylor, “So, have you got any plans for more offshoots, Root?”

“I have two already, as I said, so-”

“I meant after that.”

“Oh… Well, I guess it depends on how the current case fifty-three works out? If he turns out well, then I might try another. Like Newt. I’ll need to arrange a meeting and see how things go. Of course, the only one I have easy-ish access to is Newter, and I can’t actually touch him without getting dosed up. We may want to try someone else. Someone called Elle was suggested, so maybe them?”

“That could be-” Amy blinks in surprise as her cell phone rings, and she sighs when she pulls it out. “Hello, mom.” Sharing a look with Taylor, she rolls her eyes, saying, “I’m with Root, in the hallway near the vending machines. …Okay. I’ll head to the car, then. Meet you there.” She hands up, and stands up, offering a hand to Taylor, “Can I have your phone number, maybe talk to you another time?”

“I only have my landline, so …. How about after I get a cell? I can call you then. The plan is to get one after this, anyway. Maybe tomorrow at the latest?”

“Alright. Got paper or?”

She leans down, having Amaryllis touch her hand, “Just tell me.” when Amy tells her the phone number, she has Amaryllis write it on her arm in freckles. “There we go.”

Amy hums at the sight, “Not the most practical in my case, but good job.” Amy hugs her again, “Okay, gotta go.” With that, Amy rushes off, waving a hand at them before turning the corner.

She has both her offshoots walk next to her as she makes her way back to the room they were in, and peeks in cautiously. Her dad is in a soft conversation with Laverna, so she walks in, and closes the door behind her. The click gets their attention, and Mrs. Martin smiles at her, “Ah, good. Now, most of the things will likely be solved out of court, for the things involving Mrs. Dallon, so you won’t need to interact with her much. I could see she was… insulting towards you, and that will make it difficult for you to work with her. I got her to agree to apologize, and-”

“No apology will be enough. Unless she is genuine, I want only minimal contact with her. I can be civil, but I’d prefer for my interaction with her to be through Amy, you, or dad. Otherwise, I’d be tempted to fire her for how untrustworthy she will be on the spot.”

Mrs. Martin grimaces, giving Taylor’s father a pleading look, and he sighs. “She has trust issues that I can’t exactly say she’s not right to have. She almost demanded I stop having the paper delivered because the paperboy was untrustworthy. Same with the mailman. Not to stop at that, she hates having bare windows, since someone could look in. She tried to get me to threaten a group of people loitering near our yard on the sidewalk with trespassing.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, his glasses pushing up, “It’s been… an experience.”

Laverna nods slowly, “I see…. Perhaps you would like to talk to a therapist, Taylor?”

“No.”

Her dad says, “Someone who I check their certifications, and we go through seeing who’s best? If you still don’t want to after that, you don’t have to do any more.”

She moves and sits on a chair, “I guess. If you find someone I can trust.”

Mrs. Martin opens her mouth to say something, clearly changes her mind, and shuts it. The lawyer shuffles her papers, “I have a few people lined up for healing, who will all happily pay the amount we agreed on.” Some large amount that will let her get homeschooled, and away from that garbage.

She no longer feels like she needs to stick it out, not now that she’s found the only parahuman she knows about in there. She _could_ go around and see if she can find more, but… that’s too much effort to deal with people she hates! 

She scoops her offshoots into her lap, and says, “I would like that. We’ll get our cell phones for you to contact us, and I’ll have a cape and a civilian one, like you said.”

“Thank you, Taylor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a Taylor/Amy fic. Taylor isn't interested in anyone like that. Not really. It's mostly shard based asexuality, so please don't ask me to update relationship tags when there are none to be found. 
> 
> Thank you.


	8. Interlude: What’s Our Story So Far, Danny

Danny stares blankly at his desk looking down at the bill for the hospital, thankful for the insurance covering it. Even more so for Panacea, who will be fixing his daughter for little more than a thank you. He takes a deep breath, holding it for a count of six before letting it out. “Right,” he mutters to himself, standing up, and setting the so-called settlement papers to the side. They don’t need it, and things _will_ be okay.

He just needs to figure out how to best deal with this problem, is all. He just wants Taylor to talk to him, tell him what’s going on. She’s clearly been hiding _something_ from him, and he has been far too blind to see it. No more.

But now, he needs to get to the hospital and see Taylor, letting know how much he loves and cares for her. He’s her _father_ and she needs to realize that he won’t let her continue to be hurt.

\--

The betrayal by Alan and Emma is almost more than he can stand, honestly. Especially for how long it’s been going on, just under his nose. Danny looks at all the various copies of the letters Taylor has postmarked and sent to herself. All clearly labeled which is a copy of which, documenting things that happened. 

He isn’t sure what he hates more, that it’s gone on for so long, or that he’s been blind to it all this time. But he feels like it is falling on his shoulders, and he has to do the best he can to fix problems.

Maybe not today, but as soon as he can. Here’s hoping he can.

\--

It is only a two weeks from the horrible day, and not a day has passed since then that Danny isn’t looking and searching for signs that his daughter has powers. There’s nothing that he knows of, and Taylor does talk to him more, so that’s good. But nothing that shows up, not in any way he can tell.

But he also knows that this Saturday isn’t a good one for Taylor’s mental health, if what he’s walking into is any indication. “Ah, so that’s where the aluminum foil is. I see that you also have a gluestick. Is there any reason you’re doing this, sweetheart?”

Taylor stares at him from where she’s gluing the tinfoil to the window, “.... What?”

May those above give him strength, especially since she is now back to frantically applying glue to the window on the staircase, unsteadily balanced on the bookcase, box of foil almost ready to fall. He holds it so she’s not wobbling so badly, and pesses the box so it is more solidly on the flat of the top, “Do we just hate the sun right now, Taylor?”

Her hands freeze, but she then puts the glue down to pick up the foil. She applies it to the window as she says, “I don’t like people watching us.”

“Honey, this is about where the second floor is, so I don’t think anyone will stare at us through it.” He’s hoping being sensible will help, but he’s fairly sure paranoia is a symptom of post traumatic stress disorder. And Winslow is enough of a hellhole he’s unsurprised if she has it after that mess. He just can’t afford to do anything about it. … yet. He hopes that ‘yet’ is the truth, but he also realistically knows that’s super unlikely.

She doesn’t stop applying the foil, “But what if they do?”

“We… aren't that interesting, Taylor. Really.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did Assault and Triumph show up in the house last week? If we’re not interesting, why’d that happen?”

“Taylor, they said they came to see if you have powers, remember? It’s a usual check after something so traumatic-”

She cuts him off, voice thick, a little choked, “Don’t have powers. The one who did this to me has powers, and I can’t… I won’t… I’m not _safe_ anymore, daddy.”

Shit.

He reaches up, and tugs on her lightly, “Come on. Off of there. Come here.”

She turns around, and he carefully helps her down. He’s not the strongest, and she’s not the lightest, but he manages to help her down with the minimal amount of damage they can manage. He hugs her tightly, rocking her back and forth as they stand on the landing. He doesn’t say anything, letting her take comfort in his touch. She starts to cry, and it just breaks his heart to hear it. 

He can feel his own eyes filling with tears, but he pushes them away, knowing it won’t help. He has to be strong _for_ her when she’s so weak. So he forces himself to just hold and rock her. 

When she finally stops, his shirt soggy and kind of gross, he looks down at her. She looks like she’s thinking a little clearer, so he says, “Do we need to block the windows?” Taylor nods, so he continues, “I’ll pick up curtains where it blocks everything. We can finish putting the foil up on the ones you’ve already started, but let’s do that safely, okay?”

“... okay,” she whispers, then hugs him tightly, shaking. He holds her just as tightly, and pets her on the back when she loosens her grip.

Oh, let them get through this. No matter what happens, he will support her, even if it kills him. Maybe, if they’re lucky, she’ll find someone other than just him to trust again.

\--

Danny looks over at Amaryllis in the car. His… granddaughter, he guesses, is odd, but he knows being upset won’t do _anything_ to help out Taylor. So the more he can do to help, the better it is. So he pushes any possible freakouts about her having powers when they’d thought she didn’t into a corner of his mind. When he’s off and alone, he can scream and freakout. Right now? 

Absolutely not.

As such, he focuses on the things they need and what to fix. Clothing is a priority, and so is figuring out how to best go forward from here. He glances at Amaryllis, and his resolve hardens further. It’s already clear that Taylor likes the expression of her power, so he’ll treat her well.

He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. He’ll just do this first, focusing on the road, and go from there. Accepting things as they come is probably the best idea at this point.

\--

He’s feeling… exceedingly tested as he walks into the house, where Taylor is putting a length of fabric on a child size bird’s waist. He walks over, kneeling down, asking in a happy tone, “And who is this?” Being upset won’t fix anything, and his daughter is in a fragile place. School doesn’t help, and he seems to be the only human she can trust. 

“This is Maggie,” she tells him happily. “Listen to her.”

The bird does a warbling whistle, and he frowns in thought as he listens. He hums, then smiles, “Ah, Australian magpie. I’m kind of surprised you realized what she is.”

“Oh, is that what she is? I just saw black and white, and thought of magpies in general. Not what kind she is. I’m glad you knew, though. I was gonna ask.” Taylor hugs Maggie, “I love her so much.”

He reaches over, ruffling the feathers on his newest grandchild’s head, “She’s great, honey. So, this is Sophia’s copy?” At the nod, he continues, “I like her far more than Sophia, that’s for sure.” Not that it’s hard to hate the girl that regularly abuses his daughter.

Taylor grins, “Yeah.”

He stands up, stretching a little, “So, the lawyers are down to just a few, so I’m narrowing it down.”

“That’s good!” She returns to putting the fabric back on Maggie, and he _thinks_ she’s designing a skirt, but he can’t be sure. 

“You want anything to eat?”

“I have a roast in the oven,” she tells him, with a happy hum.

“A roast?” He glances at the kitchen, “Did we _have_ any meat large enough for that?” He knows he hasn’t bought any, since he usually prefers hamburger and things that take less time to cook.

“Amaryllis made it, along with a garlic and onion thing and some parsnips crossed with some carrots, celery, potatoes, and stuff like that.”

“Huh.” He walks over to the kitchen, opening the oven, only to see a covered roasting pan. “Sounds interesting,” he admits. He wonders what it will taste like, but can’t find it in him to argue about eating it. 

Should be interesting.

\--

That bitch broke his daughter’s _ankle_. The only reason he’s not ripping the school down brick by fucking brick is because they have a solid case to destroy the entire fucking place in a different way. It’s why he remains calm with her, and he is likely a nightmare with those he’s working with. He’s certain that most of the others in the office are incredibly nervous around him, but at least they know _why_. He’s not at all shy about explaining how she’s being assaulted, and it’s culminating in … this.

He stares down at his sleeping daughter, curled up with her offshoots, the afternoon sun filtering through the window as she naps, and resolves himself into getting her more protection. He leans over, petting her hair, ruffling Maggie’s feathers, and tucking Amaryllis in a little better. Kissing all three of them softly, he heads downstairs, still marveling at how pain free he is. 

Getting on the phone, he calls up Mrs. Martin, and waits patiently for her to pick up. When the greetings are over, he asks her, “Are there any healing jobs she can take, and then we use the money to hire some parahumans to copy?”

He can hear papers being moved, then some typing on a computer, “Yes, I can arrange that easily enough. Do you want this to happen before or after the arranged meeting with Panacea?”

He looks up at the ceiling, in the general direction of Taylor’s room, “Before.”

“I’ll arrange it.”

“Thanks."

He just hopes this works out.

\--

Some days, Danny just feels… so very tired.

Sitting next to Taylor on the couch, he pats her softly, “At least you let them inside.”

She huffs, “I should have kept the door locked.”

He looks down at her, “But look what you did! You found out you can have at least two powers copied at a time. Maybe even more.”

That gets a frown, but she nods, if reluctantly. “I guess. Do I need to go heal more people after this, then?”

“Not today, but yes tomorrow. I _did_ tell you that Faultline’s Crew would show up, I am sorry I forgot to tell you it was today.”

She sighs up at him, looking unhappy, “I would have liked it more if you were home if something like this happens again. I don’t… I don’t like it when people show up.” 

Isn’t _that_ an understatement? He doesn’t say it aloud, just petting her back, “I know.” He glances at Amaryllis and Maggie, “How about we make food, hmm?”

“Okay!” Amaryllis’s childish voice says cheerfully, while Maggie warbles excitedly. He is pretty sure Taylor is controlling them to act this way, but he doesn’t say a word against it. If it makes her happy, it makes her happy. From what he can tell, interacting through them calms her down, too.

Taking their little hands, he walks them to the kitchen, and helps them higher up as they get to work. He notes that Amaryllis has made plenty of a stock of various meats for them to eat, likely from some plants or other biomass gathered up from outside somehow. He doesn’t want to know, and as long as it is fine, he doesn't actually care.

But he does make a plan to buy some more exotic meat, see what all they like best. If they find out they like ostrich or alligator, why not make it all the time? Sure, he’ll need to research how to properly make it, but isn’t that always the case? Besides, he misses having lamb, even when it isn’t Easter. 

He writes that on a note for a shopping list, and gets back to work making hamburgers. Something simple and easy works best right now, and Amaryllis can make anything difficult simple again.

He can even fry eggs. Maybe duck egg to try, if he can track any down. 

Chuckling, Danny shakes his head. Smiling at his grandkids’ confused looks, he says, “Getting distracted while cooking, that’s all. Come on, let’s get this ready.”

\--

Danny is just glad that as he comes home with Taylor, she seems significantly more calm than before. “Do you want me to fire her?”

“No, I don’t… I don’t care,” she lies. It’s written all over her voice she doesn't want Carol Dallon as a lawyer. She keeps talking before he can offer another option, “As long as I’m kept well away from her, she’s fine. If you want to, you can make her be nicer to Amy, but I don’t think it will help much.” She taps at her new cellphone, frowning at it. “Amy says hi.”

He thinks he can deal with working with Mrs. Dallon if it means Taylor will have actual friends. It seems like she’s getting along with Panacea. Possibly because of the offshoot, but he isn’t sure about that. “Tell her hello back from me.” 

“Okay. Done.”

“Did you enjoy spending time with her?”

“It was okay. I’m just glad we’re going home now. I don’t like being outside without knowing what’s going on.”

He doesn’t sigh, knowing it won’t help. “Maybe you’ll see her when you heal next time?”

“We’ve only been healing in private, though?” She gives him a confused look, “And only that once. To hire Faultline.”

“And we’re arranging for more. I might not be with you as it happens, either. It is possible that we’ll need you to go on the bus.” He can see her panicking, so he says, “... Or have someone hired to take you. Someone who will make sure you’re safe. We’ll see.”

She doesn't look convinced, but she nods, “Okay.”

Danny supposes this is the best he’s going to get for now, and he takes what he can get. He makes a mental note to arrange for Taylor go heal in a public hospital once the costumes are ready for her and her offshoots. She can also get a private escort there.

He also makes a note to be certain that Mrs. Dallon and Mrs. Martin press the PRT and the school for all they’re worth. Since a glance at his daughter shows she isn’t okay, no matter how much happier and safer she feels about being homeschooled due to the massive amounts of restraining orders she has to the teachers in the school. He also has an incredibly heavy heart knowing she has one on Emma. 

They were sisters once, and then lack of care throws that away.

… He needs to get in touch with some therapists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very anxious lately. It sucks, but I'll live I guess. 
> 
> I hope you guys like the interlude chapter.


	9. Time For Healing

Taylor adjusts how Maggie’s shoes are on her feet, saying, “Yes, they are _so_ shiny, aren't they?” as she feels that little bit from Maggie about how much she likes the glitter shoes. Kissing her birdy on the beak, she then turns to Amaryllis, and lets her flower check her over. Seems like her seed is developing just fine, so she has no trouble putting it out of her mind. 

Done putting what she needs to do off, she stands up, her ankle now healed due to everything being properly documented, and puts on her mask with the design of a tree blooming and the roots exposed. Adjusting it slightly, she glances at herself through her offshoots, straightening the business suit skirt with her gloved hands, the sensible kitten heeled black shoes unscuffed, every bit of her covered including her hair - all the best to keep any unwelcome parahumans from touching her, since she doesn’t know if she even wants to suddenly have a third seed to grow unexpected - and picks up her offshoots on each hip. 

“Time to do some healing with Panacea, I guess.”

Stepping out of the nondescript van provided for her new business, she walks into the hospital. The older woman at the front freezes for a half second before asking slowly, “Root?”

She nods, “I am to heal with Panacea? Having her check my work?” Not that she needs it, but this will give her a better precedence for healing more than a select few. 

“Yes, we were told about that. Just go up the elevator, and oncology is on the fifth floor. They’ll be expecting you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The woman's shoulders relax, and she smiles softly at Taylor, “You’re welcome, dear.”

She nods once, having both of her Offshoots wave at the woman before turning and walking to the elevator. She has Maggie tug her work cell out, and tap a message to Amy about what’s happening and telling her the offshoot’s code names as she double checks to be sure the woman wasn’t lying to her. The reception isn’t the best, from what the bars tell her, but the message goes through. 

The response comes just before they step into the elevator, and she reads it as she moves to let Amaryllis hit the button. The reply informing her that Bird and Flower are not at all imaginative is not a surprise, but she just rolls her eyes. Their _actual_ names are, and that’s enough.

The receptionist at the front of the oncology ward directs her along the hallway, where she meets up with Amy. Smiling brightly, she walks towards the other girl, who takes Maggie from her arms, and holds her so Taylor has at least one free hand. “Hello, Root. It’s nice to see you.”

She smiles at her friend, “How are we doing this?”

“Well, there’s a new group that came in, since this is my scheduled time. Thanks for that, by the way.”

She waves her hand, “Look, you need time off, and you’re happier now that you have a set time you come here, right? Besides, I only suggested it, you implemented it.”

“It was… something I never would have put in place. Not with how… she is.” 

Taylor’s mouth thins, but she just nods, “It’s good you talked to your aunt about the problems. It’s only until the end of the year, and then you and Vicky are out.” She holds out her hand, and clasps it on Amy’s shoulder, “Now, let’s show how my Flower can heal, right?”

Amy smiles, “Right. After today, you’ll be able to go on your own, and we’ll only meet up during the break times. We’re likely going to be divided up during emergency calls, but that isn’t a big deal. I hope?” 

“It won’t be, don’t worry. I can get up randomly at night more than you can. You might have school in the morning, but I don’t.”

“Wish I had that freedom, but don’t at all want to be at home that long.”

She winks, “I’d offer my home, but the guest room is now my hobby room.”

“You still need to show me it,” Amy says, and they walk into a room.

“I will.” 

Amy looks at the woman lying in the bed, her skin looking paper thin, and hair slowly falling out. A glance at her papers has her saying, “Mrs. Petty?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Panacea, but I have with me another parahuman who can cure you just as well as I can. Would you be willing to allow her to work on you, and I check to be certain she has cleared everything away?”

The woman glances at Taylor, “Who is she?”

She bows, still holding onto Amaryllis, “I am Root, and this is Flower. I am keeping her safe as she heals you. Do not worry, she knows what she’s doing.”

“The _baby_ is healing me?” the woman asks, sounding horrified.

“No, ma’am. She is not a baby. She is just a child, about five years old.” At least visually, that is. She still has to remind herself that she can’t storm away for the insult. “She is my precious Flower, and will heal you to the best of her ability.”

Amy says, “It is why you were told to eat a great deal of food this morning, even though you didn’t think you could keep it down. And why we have another order of food for you to eat after this.”

“I thought that was because I would be healed by you!”

“It is how both Flower and I heal,” Amy says, voice clipped. Her voice turns, kinder, calmer, “If you wish to refuse parahuman healing or want me to heal you, then you just need to tell us, and we will do that.”

“No! No, no! I… I would be fine with… Flower healing me.”

“Very well,” Amy says. “I will check what is wrong with you, so I know what she’s changed from the start.” Amy hands the clipboard to Maggie before she touches Mrs. Petty, then moves away, gesturing to them to go forward. A glance at the clipboard from Maggie just confirms the woman is in late stage cancer and still on chemo.

Taylor moves close, and crouches slightly to better place Amaryllis in reach of the rude woman, and heals her to the best of her ability. There isn’t a great deal of biomass to use, but she can clean out all the cancer cells spreading throughout her, and remove the genetic predisposition towards it. 

She has Amaryllis tug on her lightly, as if signifying she’s done, and pulls away with practiced grace. “It’s done,” Amaryllis says softly for her.

Amy walks forward, checking the woman over, “Just as well done as I’d do it.” She takes a pen out, and scribbles something that looks like her initials on the paper in Maggie’s hands before handing it to Taylor, “Sign next to mine. Cape name.”

She scribbles an approximation of her cape name, and puts the clipboard back on the end of the bed, following Amy out. “Are all of them going to be as… rude as her?”

“No, it’s doubtful they will be. Generally, they’re grateful, but I’m glad to see you kept your temper in check about that.”

She sighs, “It might be better if I don’t carry her as we do this. Letting people see she can walk may help.”

Amy holds Maggie closer, “You won’t make me put… Birdy down, right?”

She laughs, setting Amaryllis on the ground, and straightening out her costume, “Nope. She can be held like a teddy bird all you want.”

Amy cuddles her, “Good. She’s so _soft_, I love her feathers.”

She lets Maggie warble prettily, “And she likes you holding her. Did you see her new shoes?”

“I did!” Amy wiggles Maggie’s leg, “Very shiny. They suit her well.” Amy cuddles Maggie a little more, “The kid’s section of the hospital is always my last stop of the day unless something big is happening. I think Maggie will be a big hit there, so will Amaryllis.”

“It’s clear they make you happy to heal them, especially with your texts to me when you do that. I’ll make sure that the hospitals understand that I won’t take that over from you when I do show up. But I might join you if you’re there.”

“That would be nice.”

She smiles as they walk into the next room. The next patient is a tired looking woman who smiles at them, but actually doesn’t argue about how young Amaryllis looks, just accepting her getting fixed easily. 

The rest of the patients fall into an easy routine, and eventually they finish up all who are there, and go to take a break. The break room is sparse but manageable. Taylor buys the both of them sandwiches from the vending machine, and has a bit of a dilemma about how to eat with her mask. 

Amy laughs at her, pulling a domino mask from her pocket, “Here. Just have your two look out to be sure no one comes in. They don't put cameras in here, so don’t worry about that.”

Quickly placing it on, she puts her actual mask to the side, “Were you anticipating me not realizing I couldn’t eat?”

“After your description of your mask? Absolutely.” Amy lightly pokes Taylor’s nose, “It’s surprisingly common.” She takes a bite of her sandwich, giggling softly.

Huffing softly, she has her offshoots return to sitting next to her, “Also, you didn’t warn me because you wanted to laugh at me.”

“Only partially. I did keep the mask so you would be fine, so all is forgiven?”

She’s pretty sure that if Amy were pulling this before they texted a lot since their first meeting, she’d be a lot less forgiving. But now she knows it isn’t mean spirited, just a small joke. So she smiles softly, genuinely, “Yeah.”

They eat some more, chatting about little things. Mostly catching up on how it is going on at home. Boring for Taylor, since all she has is homeschooling where she has to teach herself, and stressful for Amy, since Carol is grumpy about Amy and Vicky going over her head to Sarah about her behavior. She shouldn’t be such a bitch, then, is Taylor’s unspoken opinion.

A nurse walks in, looking pained, and glances at them. “Ah… is there-” She snaps her mouth closed, and shakes her head, “Sorry, none of my business.”

“What is it you were going to ask?” Taylor says, looking at the woman, feeling her hackles metaphorically raise.

She looks away, but says, “I was going to ask why the children aren’t eating, but it’s likely they’re allergic to the food here or-”

“Oh, no, that’s not it,” she says, relaxing. “It’s impossible for them to eat. Don’t worry about them.”

“How is that possible?” the nurse asks, looking curious.

“Who knows how powers work at all?”

It’s clear that doesn’t seem to answer the question for the nurse, but she just nods confusedly, “Right.”

The woman limps by them, pouring a cup of coffee, and is about to leave when Taylor says, “Would you like my Flower to heal you?”

The woman turns back to them, “What do you mean?”

“You’re limping.”

“Oh, uh, sure?”

Panacea swallows her bite of sandwich, “A yes or no, please.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Taylor puts Amaryllis on the ground, and has her walk over, touching the woman’s offered hand. Ah, it’s arthritis, and the pain meds she’s taking are wearing off. She just removes that, the pain, and does a general cleanup of various problems. Including cleaning up her lungs from an intermittent smoking habits. She could remove that addiction, but she’s not gonna bother. In this line of work, the woman will likely get back into it even if warned about how she no longer has to.

“There you go,” Amaryllis says cutely.

Patting her on the head, the nurse smiles kindly, “Thank you so much, cutiepie. You’re a real lifesaver.”

Amaryllis giggles, and hurries back to Taylor. Both of her Offshoots wave as the nurse leaves, and Amy smirks at her, “Will only heal on designated times, and not on break, huh?”

“And when I randomly decide it. I said that, too,” she says loftily before finishing up her sandwich. “We ready to head to the kids’ section?”

Amy stands up, “I think so, yes. I have homework to do afterwards. I have it in my bag in my locker here, so… I was wondering….”

“Yes?”

“Could I go with you to your house afterwards? You said you get picked up and dropped off by a hired driver, so….”

She laughs, “Okay. I’m alright with that.” She pulls out her cell, and puts it in Maggie’s hands, scooping up Amaryllis as Maggie tells her father that she’s going to take Amy to their home when everything is done. “You want to carry Ma- my birdy as we head to the kids?”

“Of course.”

Maggie responds to her father giving approval as they carry her offshoots into the hall, Amaryllis adjusting Taylor’s official mask on her face. Adjusting how she’s holding Amaryllis, she takes her phone back to put in her pocket while Amy explains to the nurse at the level’s reception desk where they’re going.

She barely notes how the woman says she’ll call down to alert the Child’s oncology ward, mostly helping Amy adjust how she’s holding Maggie. She _does_ notice when one of the other nurses says, “They’re so well behaved.”

Glancing at the woman, she says, “Well, yes, they always are.”

“How do you do it? My two are sweet, but if they were to work like this, they’d be little terrors. I can’t see how a big sister does it,” the nurse sounds super condescending, and sort of smug for some reason. 

She glances at Amy a pleading look on her face even if it isn’t visible through the mask, knowing she _will_ snap at the woman if it comes down to it. It isn’t just that the woman is insulting, but also that Taylor isn’t a sibling, these are her _children_. Amy touches her side, addressing the nurse, “They’re how her power expresses itself. They aren’t … they aren't how you think they are. She doesn't feel comfortable discussing it.”

“Really, Panacea? You don’t usually speak for guest capes like this.”

Taylor scowls, shoving her anger away the best she can, making Amaryllis and Maggie squirm in their arms. “Panacea is my friend, and she knows what she’s talking about. What she said is more than enough.”

The nurse looks like she wants to argue, but behind them, Maggie can see the nurse at the desk making frantic cutting motions at her own neck. The annoying nurse looks irritated, but nods, “Okay. I’ll get back to work.”

Striding past the woman, she takes Amy’s arm, pulling her along. Amy has to do a half hop and skip to keep up, but when they turn the corner, Taylor lets go, and just hugs Amaryllis close, shaking a bit. “Weren't they _told_ not to be rude?” She doesn't blame the rude patients, but she knows part of the arrangements with her healing for free is that none of the nurses do anything to upset her.

“I think they were, but that nurse clearly doesn't realize how she’s pushing your buttons.” Amy looks pained, reluctantly admitting, “Or she does, and just doesn't care.”

She closes her eyes, “I just… I may need to inform them to keep her away from me after this. What if she hurts my offshoots? I can’t just…”

Amy hugs her, putting Maggie in Taylor’s other arm, and just rubbing her back, “She won’t. I’ll make sure that she doesn’t do that again, okay?”

“O-okay. I trust you.”

“Good.” Amy pats her back, “You sit in the chairs near the elevator as I talk to them. Do you want me to take your flower or birdy with me so you can know what I tell them?”

“Ye-” she cuts herself off, taking a deep breath. She forcibly follows the advice of bother her father and therapist, she says in an even tone, “No. I trust you to know what to do, and to take care of the problem. I do not need to watch you to be certain of this.”

“Ah, talks with your therapist helping?”

She shrugs helplessly, “I can’t tell. I’ve only been twice, and he suggested trusting people to do things, and not needing to watch if I don’t have to. And I’ll just feel… safer if I have them with me, you know? I know they can take care of themselves, and so can you, but I just….” She shrugs again, shifting from foot to foot.

Amy smiles at her, head tilting a little, “Understandable. Go sit down, I’ll be with you after I talk to them.”

“Okay.”

Watching Amy go back into the hallway, she forces herself to turn away and not send Maggie after her. She knows it will be simple to do, just toss her up, and go shadow to ghost around a bit and find a hidden sort of perch someplace to land. But she _does_ trust Amy. Amy knows about the hospital, and will keep things in line.

Going to the chairs in the lounge area in front of the elevators, she sits down, and just tugs out a small bit of living plant from her pocket, and puts it in Amaryllis’s hands. She focuses on working on that and making it into numerous things out of sight, her flower close to her chest, while absently watching to see when Amy returns.

She’s debating removing her glove to let Amaryllis siphon some fat from her body to add to the tiny tree she’s making, when Amy returns. Changing the tree into an innocuous air plant, which is tucked back into her pocket, she then stands up, Maggie walking over to Amy excitedly. Amy scoops Maggie up, holding her close as Taylor’s birdy warbles happily.

Amy laughs, tapping Maggie on the beak, “If you keep that up, I’ll think I’m your favorite, leaving Taylor in the dust.”

Laughing a bit, Taylor walks closer, setting Amaryllis on her shoulders, “Maybe!”

Amy laughs with her, and they make their way to the children’s ward. Her heart is light, and she looks forward to entertaining the children. A routine for Amy check will help her out.


	10. Planning For The Weekend

Taylor unlocks the door to her home, helping Amy avoid the broken step absently. “Would you like me to make something to eat?”

Amy steps in and closes the door behind her. Setting Maggie on the floor, Amy helps peel off Taylor’s offshoot’s concealing clothing as she says, “I should be okay.”

“I ask since I’ll be starting dinner, and want to know if you would like food as we work.”

“How about I help out?”

“Sounds good. Would you grab that tree over there?”

Amy glances around, but walks to a big pot, where Taylor has Amaryllis’s inert project. Amy attempts to pick it up, only to just knock the pot over. “Ah! Taylor!”

Sending Amaryllis out, she asks from the kitchen, “Why didn’t you use your powers to move it?”

“Wh-what?”

Instead of answering, she puts Amaryllis’s hand on the bark, and has her change it so it now is an oddly tree shaped flesh creature that follows along after her. Taylor says, “We’ll clean up the dirt after. Coming, Amy?”

Amy scrambles up, Maggie helping her a bit so she doesn’t fall, and hurries to the kitchen, “You can’t do that!”

She looks up from where she’s pulling out an onion, “You want me to leave the onions out? The meat won’t be quite as good, but-”

“No! That!” Amy points at the tree creature, “You can’t!”

She looks at Amy, putting Maggie on the counter to have her help set things up, including setting the oven, “Why not?”

“The PRT will-”

“Ah, that’s it. Calm down, Amy. It can't reproduce, there’s no way to spy in my house, and no one will see it happen. I’ll change it back once we’re done.”

Amy stares at the creature, and then moves close to it, touching it carefully. Taylor lets her do that as she pulls out the ground turkey and hamburger, since they seem to be the most normal meat Amaryllis has premade - her father seems to really like the alligator and goat, but she doesn’t think Amy will agree. Dropping them into the pan with the cut onions, she starts stirring them together to cook as she has Amaryllis start up the bread yeast. 

Amy lets go of her creature, saying, “That’s… weird.”

She shrugs, “It’s an extra set of hands and so on, made to help me cook. And Amaryllis can kill all the bad bacteria off of it as we work.”

Amy takes the flour and measuring cups from Maggie glancing at the recipe taped on the wall, “You use this bread recipe a lot?”

“Only once I realized I can have Amaryllis jumpstart the yeast into working significantly faster than it really should. Takes it from an hour to rise to about ten or fifteen minutes. It doesn't taste the best, but when I’m just making meat buns, who cares? All the flavor is in the meat, and the bread is just for easy handholds.”

She has Maggie pull out the canned cubed carrots and some already chopped up bell peppers to give to her. Dumping the peppers into the pan with the meat, she opens the can and drains the liquid into the sink, while Amy works on the bread. Amy saying, “That’s… a really good way to use my power.”

“I enjoy playing with it in new ways, like the creature, or making food. We can’t actually sell that or anything legally, and I wouldn’t anyway, but I do it sometimes.”

“What kind of food?”

Amaryllis makes a cherry out of a bit of the creature, the size of a fist and with no seed, and hands it over to Amy. “Here, take a bite.”

Amy looks dubious, but eats some of it, blinking in shock, “What!”

“I know! You can eat it all, and I’ll have my kitchen helper finish with the bread. You sit at the table with Maggie.”

Amy wanders over to the table, eating it, “The hell. This is so good. My powers can make this? … I’ve never really… thought about doing it.” The other girl looks thoughtful, chewing slowly.

“Yeah.” She judges the meat, and deems it needs more time to cook before she adds the already cooked carrots. “Plants are in the purview of your power, why not take advantage? Even if you can’t make things for sale to people, which is kind of garbage, but whatever. Well, you can make things alive, then give them a short lifespan to kill and then sell them. Not much good for plants, but weird animals, sure.”

“Like what?”

“I considered selling fake dead mermaids, and have things like obvious stitching on where the fake human touches the fish part.”

Amy finishes chewing her bite of cherry, “That’s amazing. How big would they be?”

“Small enough to stack in the trunk of a car. I’d hire someone from the dockworkers, someone real good at shilling things, and sell them like they’re illegitimate goods. Ultimately, any DNA testing would find is the right sized fish and what seems to be chimp or monkey. All depending on the size I go with.”

“That seems impractical.”

“Yeah, so I will just be selling healing, and I’ll make sure there’s space for you in the business to join me once you leave home.”

“Thanks.” Amy pets Maggie’s back as Taylor’s offshoot sprawls across her lap, “You think we could make a bigfoot?”

“If we wanted to? Yeah. But if we let it loose in the woods to be found, it will rightfully be deemed a biotinker creaton.” She starts putting the bread into same sized lumps to be filled once they’re ready. 

“But can you imagine it? What if we tip off some cryptozoologists?”

She thinks of it, the idea of someone so focused on proving something right, they ignore all the evidence that they’re wrong. “It would be _hilarious_, but then the PRT will confiscate it, and they’ll trumpet about government cover ups.”

Amy looks a little disappointed, “I guess we don’t do it.”

“Oh, I think it would be hilarious if we did. Say we’re going out for a walk together, change some tree into a sasquatch body.”

Seeing Amy’s eyes light up in excitement makes her smile, and she adds the carrots to the meat for the creature to stir. Amy says, arms thrown wide, “I’d love that! Let’s do it!”

“We’ll make a plan for a day we both can. It would likely best on a Sunday.” Seeing how the rolls are already rising rather fast, she starts to flatten them out, glancing as Amaryllis to direct the creature. 

“This Sunday?” Amy says, looking wide eyed at her.

“Uh… sure? I’ll have my dad drive us? Just get permission from your father.” 

Amy pauses, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. As the girl fights her internal battles, Taylor removes the met from the heat, and has Amaryllis lead the creature back to the pot. Maggie hops off Amy’s lap to go help replace the dirt that fell out.

As Taylor starts putting the meat into the bread, Amy finally says, “Would… would it be okay if Vicky comes with us?”

Part of her wants to instantly refuse, but she holds Maggie’s beak closed with four tiny hands to keep herself from doing it - not that Maggie speaks from the beak, she just needs a physical reminder. “I…” She takes a breath, making two more meat buns before saying, “I will talk to dad, and if he says yes, she’s welcome. He’ll be home in,” she glances at the clock in the living room by Amaryllis, while Maggie coaxes the creature to dig into the soil shows her the time, “a few hours. If you’re still here at that point, you’ll know then. Otherwise, I will send you a text.”

Amy smiles cautiously, “I do think you’d like Vicky.”

Smiling back at her, Taylor says, “I’m sure I will. She’s your sister, and you love her. She can’t be bad. I’m just ...” She looks back at the meatbuns, working on them again as Amaryllis and Maggie return, with Amaryllis casually wiping all the bad bacteria from Maggie and herself before climbing back onto the counter to help make the food. 

Maggie hops back onto Amy’s lap, saying for her so she doesn't have to, “I have trust issues, Amy. It’s hard to….” Taylor sighs, having Maggie continue, “It isn’t the easiest for me to trust.”

“I promise Vicky will behave if she comes with us.”

Taylor feels better, now able to speak herself, “And I trust you, so I’ll trust her. I’m sure that if I talk to her for awhile, she’ll be fun and nice to talk to. I’ll just- Ah!!” Her phone goes off, so she leaves the meat buns to Amaryllis as she leans over Amy a bit to allow Maggie to pull it from her pocket. “I’ll just need to talk to Vicky, is all.”

“Great!”

Her phone has a text from Gregor, asking for a timeline when the offshoot made from him will be ready, and if she has a specific day. 

She has Maggie reply as she finishes up the meat buns, with a response explaining that she isn’t exactly sure when it will be ready, but it has a week, a week and a half; that she will inform him the instant she’s certain of the day, even if she only knows it will be that very day. She’s hoping that it will be a day she won’t need to cancel everything.

She’s putting the meat buns in the oven when Gregor responds, and she sighs when she reads it. He wants her to come to the club when it happens.

“Absolutely not,” she huffs, closing the oven door, and having Maggie reply exactly that. Looking at Amaryllis, she asks, “Can you believe the nerve of that man?” Unless she can get a good reason, she’ll be staying _home_.

Amaryllis crosses her arms with no direction from Taylor, and huffs, head thrown back. Taylor laughs, frustration gone, and scoops her offshoot into her arms. Amy watches her, and says with a slightly wavery voice, “Everything okay?”

Smiling at her friend, Taylor nods her head, “I’m fine. It’s just talking to the donor of my latest offshoot.”

Amy stands up, holding Maggie in her arms, “Not easy being a single mom with another on the way, huh?”

“My dad helps,” she says, cuddling her offshoot.

“But now you gotta deal with baby daddies, huh?” Amy winks at her with a grin, “Want me to make an honest woman of you?”

Rolling her eyes, Taylor sets the timer, “No, but you _can_ help out by helping me clean them up. Amaryllis still has flour on her, and Maggie needs a spritzing.”

“A what?”

She heads out of the kitchen, “Come on.”

Amy follows, looking confused as they head upstairs, then blinks when they get to the bathroom, “Taylor… what are you-”

Holding up a spray bottle, Taylor says, “Spritz. She’s part bird. The more human bits get soap and rinse, but she’ll need to be wet down for her feathers. We do her first, and then Amaryllis. Just so the water is cleaner.”

Amy blinks, “O-oh.” Setting down Maggie, Amy takes Amaryllis, “I’ll just hold her and wait.”

“Alright.” Stripping Maggie down and putting her in the bathtub, setting it to fill about an inch or two deep, Taylor says, “You want Amaryllis to do more than just fix your general problems?”

“What do you mean?”

“She gave me abs. You want to be buff?”

There’s silence, but Taylor using this time to start let Maggie just automatically roll in the water, warbling excitedly. Every so often, she sprays Maggie with the spray bottle, making her offshoot giggle excitedly. She pulls out the gentlest soap she has, and cleans Maggie’s hands and feet.

When she’s carefully inspecting each claw for damage, Amy finally says, “I, uh, wow. I usually don't do that kinda thing, but hell yes. Make me strong.”

“Alright.” She sets Amaryllis to do just that, and finishes cleaning up Maggie. Maggie always takes next to no time to clean, but forever to dry. She should probably get a better hair dryer. Sure, the internet says not to use one, but that’s because a bird can't say it’s too hot. She knows how Maggie feels.

Once Amaryllis is done, she hands the hair dryer to Amy, who sighs, but works on drying Maggie as Taylor strips Amaryllis down and sets her in the water. Amy glances over, saying, “So, I noticed you all have that mouth in your stomach? What does it do?”

“It spits out offshoots for me, and I think the ones on Maggie and Amaryllis just marks my offshoots as mine. I don’t know for sure.” 

Amy hums, adjusting to better dry off Maggie’s arms, “Also, how does Amaryllis have such great hair?”

“I take care of it. See?”

Amy looks over to see Taylor putting shampoo in Amaryllis’s hair, and then show off her bottle of conditioner to use next. The poor girl looks confused, “I just use two-in-one?”

“I… I noticed.” She pours a cup of water over Amaryllis’s hair as Maggie moves to a new spot to better use the dryer. “I can fix that for you, if you want?”

“How? Have Amaryllis grow out more of my hair, and then cut off the bad?”

“... You can do that?”

“Well, yeah? I’ve done that with Vicky a few times. She once did a bad home perm. It was absolutely terrible looking.” 

Taylor can’t even imagine it. Her head just blanks at the thought. “I guess I could do that for you, but you’d need to promise to throw away every two-in-one bottle in your house.”

“Seems excessive, but okay.”

“I can assure you, it is not.”

Amy rolls her eyes, “I only have mine and my dad’s to toss. His hair is better than mine, even if he uses it Still, I’ll tell him why, and replace his with shampoo and conditioner, while I’ll just use Vicky’s for me.”

“Sounds good.” She checks on the conditioner in Amy’s hair then returns to cleaning her up. “You think you could grow Amaryllis’s hair out here?’

“I can, but why?”

“Longer hair for her would be nice. I actually don’t think they can grow out their hair, now that I think about it? I could put it into a simple braid, and it would be super cute. It might kind of distance her looks from you, too. That way people are less likely to point out her powers are identical to yours.” She rinses the conditioner out, and pulls Amaryllis from the tub, draining it and toweling her dry.

“Oh, good point,” Amy says, teeth clicking together, a grimace on her face. “Don’t need people to figure out what you’re doing too soon. I think you’d need more than, what is it? Two or three capes? Do I count the one growing?”

“Just two, right now. Three soon, with a fourth after. Maybe a fifth, if Faultline likes how Gregor’s comes out.” Actually, depending on if they pay more, which will be happening. She just doesn't want to remind Amy that’s how she’s doing this. It seems a little rude?

Amy puts a hand on Amaryllis’s head, hair growing out, and Amaryllis getting slightly thinner. Taylor can only notice due to how she’s connected to her offshoot. Once done, Amy says cheerfully, “There you go!”

“Thank you.” She grabs a wide toothed comb and starts to work it through her offshoot’s hair, only to frown and have her flower lean over the tub to get a cup poured over her head. Drying that with the towel, she starts combing again. 

When they both have the offshoots dried and dressed, they head downstairs to watch television. The plan is to watch movies until the meat buns are done, and Taylor’s father is home.


	11. Lunch With Dad, A Picnic With Vicky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s chapter is showing how Amy is getting happier and more confident with her powers. Growing into them safely and with people she loves. Isn’t that what we all want? To be loved, happy, and excited with new things? 
> 
> My brain is still doing badly, but I hope those reading enjoy this chapter.

Her father comes in just as Taylor is pulling the food from the oven, and she sets it down before saying, “You’re home early?”

He laughs, scooping Amaryllis into his arms absently, “I wanted to know how your time at the hospital went!” He smiles over at Amy, “But it is very clear it went well, if you invited Panacea over.”

Amy shifts a little where she’s sitting at the table, “I prefer being called Amy when I’m not in costume.”

“Amy, then. You can call me Danny if you want, but I understand if you would rather use Mr. Hebert.” He smiles a little wider, then looks over at the food, “Just bread rolls?”

“Meat buns,” she corrects. “I thought you’d like the leftovers for lunch.” 

“I would. Now, anything else with it?”

She looks at him, kind of freezing a bit, “Uh….”

Amy laughs, “I asked her the same thing!”

Sticking her tongue out at Amy, Taylor says, resignedly, “I was expecting that the meat buns would just be for Amy and me, the leftovers get eaten later on, some for your lunch. And for actual dinner, I’d make hamburger helper or something like that. Maybe a stroganoff.”

“And I ruined it by showing up early,” he says, amusement coloring his voice. “We can have them as a small snack, then make food later.”

“Okay.” She sets them out to cool, separating two for each of them, “Amy and I would like to go out and do something on Sunday. We want to head out to a forested area and wander for a while. Would you be willing to drive us out there?”

He glances at her and Amy, frowning a little, “I guess I could. You’d need to tell me where exactly it would be. Do you want me to go walking with you, or just be contacted to come pick you up?”

“I was going to ask Vicky to come with us,” Amy says, staring at the table and avoiding eye contact, “and we might make something to have her carry us back in safely.”

Her dad glances at Taylor before refocusing on Amy, “What would you make?”

Amy shuffles a little in her chair, then waves aimlessly at the living room, “Amaryllis, would you go grab the models?”

Directing her offshoot along, Taylor sets the plates in front of them, and sits down. “Eat up.” She puts words to action, and takes a bite of her steaming snack. Amaryllis runs back holding the small models, and sets them on the table. 

Amy picks them up after patting Amaryllis on the head, saying, “These are the ideas we have.”

Her father takes one, examining the round pod with two seats, “And where will my grandchildren sit in this?”

“On our laps!”

“Nnnn-no.” He sets it to the side, biting into his own food as he picks up another, this one more oblong. “I see the seats for all of you, but this one has another problem the first one also had. How are you going to protect yourselves from wind, if Glory Girl is going to fly you all in it?”

Amy frowns, thinking about that, “I… don't know?”

“Eat, then figure it out.”

Amy nods, taking a bite of her food, and looking thoughtful. Taylor has Amaryllis take the round pod one, and plays with it to experiment on clear windows. She eventually hits on using bug eye lenses, even if there’s a bit of color tinting at first, but she leeches that out. “Tada,” Amaryllis says cheerfully, setting it on the table, and snagging the others to do the same.

Amy touches it, and nods, “Nice.”

Her father asks, “Why don’t you just do that to head out there, and not need me to potentially compromise Taylor’s identity?”

Taylor opens her mouth to disagree, only to shut it. “Huh.”

“Might be a better choice,” Amy admits. “Still, could you say you’d like us to go, if one of my parents calls?”

He laughs a little, “Okay.”

“Thanks.” She pauses, thinking, “Ah, I wanted to ask something?”

“Yes?”

“How goes the lawsuit with Winslow and so on?”

“Rather well! It’s just going to take a bit, so don’t worry too much. I’ll tell you when we need you, and we’ll go from there. Sophia is being dealt with, and harshly from what we can see, but how that will pan out with the rest of things, we can’t know yet. Same with the others that hurt you.”

“Oh, good. And when is my next paid healing session?”

“I’ll need to talk to Mrs. Martin, but I’ll let you know a few days in advance. We have it well in hand.”

Taylor smiles happily, “Thanks, dad. Love you.”

He leans over, kissing her forehead, “Love you, too.”

\--

When Vicky places the travel pod down, Taylor gets to work freeing her offshoots from the harness her father made her make, and puts them down on the ground to wander with them. Walking out, she has Amaryllis convert it to a compact plant that will just decompose in a week if they don’t manage to find it before they need to leave.

Vicky watches her curiously, “So, Amy, you can do that?”

“Yeah, but we’re keeping it kind of quiet.”

When Vicky moves to poke the plant, Maggie hops onto it and warbles at her, only to squawk when the girl scoops her up and spins. “Holy shit, she’s so damned cute, Root.”

“Thank you, Glory… Girl.”

“Just Vicky, not that it matters, right?”

“It kind of does,” she says, “since if anyone hears you guys saying _my_ name….” She trails off meaningfully.

“Yeah, but we’re here to goof off, not in an official capacity. We’ll use your cape name, but we don’t want people to think well,” Vicky looks at her pointedly.

She nods, glancing at Amy, “Yeah.”

Vicky grins at her, “So, you _sure_ you don’t wanna grab me? I’d be a great addition, you know. I’m _amazing_.”

“It is best I don’t, since I feel like having an extra would be a good idea. Unless you believe you won’t ever allow me to copy you again?”

Vicky tosses Maggie into the air, and catches her when she floats down, “Nah, but you’ll regret not copying me when you need a heavy hitter. You’ll see.”

“I suppose.” She picks up Amaryllis, “Let’s go catch up to Amy.”

“Shit, which way did she- There we go!” Vicky jets off to where her sister is wandering further into the woods, while Taylor follows at a more sedate pace.

Amy glances over at them when they catch up, saying, “I wanna make things.”

“Like what?”

Amy responds by sticking her hand on a plant, and pulling away with a small chunk of it in her hand that she changes the property to a green colored thing she shoves in her mouth. As they stare at her, confused, she blows a bubble from it, “This.”

“What is that?”

“Gum flavored like coffee.”

“Why is it _green_?” Vicky asks, sounding pained.

“Why not?”

Unable to argue with that, she has Amaryllis touch the same tree, and make a small chunk of rubber that she flavors to taste like chocolate, and hands it to Vicky, “Here. Chocolate flavor, for you.”

Vicky looks tentative, but she takes it and puts it in her mouth. Chewing it, Vicky nods, “Huh, not bad. How long will the flavor last?”

Taylor shrugs, “I’m not sure, but if you want it refreshed, just hand it to Amaryllis. We’ll have it fixed quickly enough.”

“Awesome.” The girl throws Maggie in the air again, “So, did you have Amaryllis change Maggie to look like this? Since I’m damn sure her powers are exactly like Shadow Stalker’s, and that chick is completely human last I heard.”

“I did not.”

“So how is she-”

“It was in how she was made. I shouldn’t have rushed it.” But, privately, in her own head she has to admit, she’s glad Maggie looks nothing like Sophia. Oh, she’d love Maggie no matter what, but at least this way she gets to just enjoy her offshoot being her offshoot.

“Do you plan on fixing-”

“Vicky,” Amy interrupts, “do not. Maggie isn’t broken. She is how she is, and Taylor loves her.”

“I do,” she says tightly. It is only due to Amy reining Vicky in that she doesn’t snap at the girl.

“Alright, alright.” Vicky tosses Maggie up again, aiming to catch her, but Taylor instead directs her birdy to land on Amy’s shoulders. 

Amy stumbles slightly, but easily returns to walking. “So, I’ve been keeping up my exercise, Taylor. Have you been thinking about taking it up yourself?”

“Maybe when I have my own place, out of the city. I’d want to do it where I won’t need to worry about someone noticing I’m doing it with one or more of my offshoots with me. And Gregor-”

“Gregor?” Vicky interrupts curiously.

She pretends not to hear, just continuing, “-wants me to be safe as I wait for my next one. I’m certain that Faultline will want the same.”

“Why do you have Faultline and Gregor’s offshoots?” Vicky asks pointedly.

“My lawyer arranged for it, paying them well. The plan is for Spitfire and Labyrinth, but likely just Spitfire. We want to get me proper protection, and the best way to do that, is by having heavy hitters.”

“They’re v-”

“Vicky!” Amy snaps, sounding frustrated. “Remember our conversation before this?”

“.... right, fuck. Sorry.”

Taylor doesn't know what conversation it is, but also doesn’t care. As long as Vicky doesn’t keep antagonizing her, it should be okay.

“You said you want to have offshoots to keep you safe, why not me?” Vicky asks, plucking from Amy’s shoulders, and holding her again, this time with more care.

Feeling better about this, she says, “Because I’ve already paid for Spitfire, and we aren’t exactly sure how many I can queue at a time. If it’s just three, like I suspect, then I don’t want to block out the possibility of getting a Shaker _twelve_ if I’m lucky.”

“Can’t she not control that?” Amy asks, looking genuinely curious.

“Yes, but I’m kind of hoping I will be able to. I can control Maggie and Amaryllis’s powers, so maybe it will be the same. I still have about a week until Gregor’s offshoot is ready, anyway. I’m actually trying to come up with names for him, but I don’t want anything insulting. It doesn’t help that I came up with Amaryllis and Maggie’s names on the fly.”

“How did you even come up with Amaryllis?” Vicky asks, looking curious.

“I wanted something that started with an ‘Am’ sound like Amy’s name, and it felt right to have a flower name.”

“And Maggie because she’s a magpie, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“It’s a good name.”

She smiles at the other girl, “Thank you.” 

“So what are your thoughts on Gregor’s offshoot’s name?”

“I don’t want anything insulting, so no bugs. He may be Gregor the snail, but Gregor is an actual _name_. But I want something that calls back to it, in a way, I suppose.” She looks down, “I also need to figure out a name for Faultline’s offshoot.” And she has to admit, “I only named Maggie and Amaryllis after they came out.”

Amy stumbles a little over a log, and Taylor catches her. Holding her arm, Amy asks, “Might work best if you have the internet to look it up. Preferably not using phone data. We can now if you want?”

She hums softly as they walk further into the forest, “I don’t think so. I’ll talk to them about it.”

Vicky flies next to them, Maggie on her shoulders, “Hey, if you were to name _my_ offshoot, what would she be called?”

“I… I don’t know? I would do best if I have the offshoot in front of me as I do it, honestly.”

“You should call her something that starts with ‘V’ and means you love her.”

Taylor shares an unimpressed look with Amy, but gamely says, “... You clearly have something in mind. How about you tell me, instead of forcing me to guess?” 

“Valentine,” Vicky says smugly, putting an arm over Taylor’s shoulder, and using the other to gesture in front of them. “It’s perfect! You can even call her Val for short.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, Vicky.” She adjusts Amaryllis in her arm, “If you come up with more names, I will also talk through them with you. Just let me deal with Faultline’s crew before I go to New Wave.”

“You will?”

“If Lady Photon wants me to have offshoots of you, I’m willing.” She grimaces as she adds, “Including your mother, if Brandish wants me to.”

“She likely will,” Amy admits. “You really dislike her, but honestly she doesn’t really care that much about you? If the team does it, she likely will, too. It isn’t like you’re a villain, and you have no plans to become one, either.”

Vicky shakes her head, “She’d be pissed New Wave is _after_ Faultline’s Crew.”

Amy shrugs, “If she doesn’t, then she doesn’t. With us giving Ta-Root,” a small stumble over not revealing Taylor’s name is fairly easy to cover up, “our offshoots, it’s kinda moot point. I’m pretty sure that Dad would be willing to, if only because we asked.”

“Oh, he would!” Vicky says excitedly. “You should have him and me after the Crew.”

“I will, but only if I’m allowed,” Taylor informs them.

“I’ll arrange it,” Vicky says with a grin.

Amy sits down on a log from a fallen tree, “Alright, I’m done.”

“Done?”

“Walking, I mean. I wanna do this here, and not further in. It is way less likely for people to find it if we’re any further away from the trail.”

Vicky snorts, “I doubt anyone _will_ find it. Right next to a trail would be better than our randomly into the woods choice here.”

Taylor watches Amy laugh nervously, and decides to save the other girl by saying, “I believe her plan is for us to do this multiple times. The less likely for someone to find this one makes the others more believable.”

Amy grins, glancing between her and Vicky, “Ah… Yes.”

Vicky just looks tired, “Alright. I guess we’re making this a weekend thing from now on?”

“We can bring food, or when we finish, we can go back home and go out to eat,” Taylor offers kindly, patting Vicky softly on the side. 

“Next time, we go out to eat. You guys said you had a plan for today, anyway.”

“I want to try making a salad,” she says cheerfully.

“And I want to make soup,” Amy says. “We’ll see how it goes!”

“Alright, cool,” Vicky says, looking around. “So show off what you’re making.”

Instantly, Amy hops up, grabbing Amaryllis from Taylor’s arms, and hurrying to a tree. Touching it, she starts whispering to Amaryllis what to do, and Taylor pretty much just lets that go on autopilot as she turns to Vicky. “So, what kind of salad would you like? You want it to taste like something you’ve had before, or… ?”

Vicky holds Maggie in her arms, “Something that _isn’t_ iceberg lettuce? I just don’t like it that much. Baby spinach or other things would be way better. Can you make cheese?”

“I can also make bacon bits, if you want.”

“Awesome. I want to try that.”

She sits down, Vicky joining her, and they watch as the body of the bigfoot is converted from the tree. It works out fairly well, but there’s still some of the tree left over. Amy dusts off her hands, saying, “Okay! Let’s turn the rest into a good picnicking spot and food!”

Taylor pays more attention this time, and guides Amaryllis into making things that they’ll enjoy, including dishes and silverware. She hums softly as she presses a hand to the blanket that Amy is making, “Nice. Wool?”

“Yeah, I can also do cotton, but wool is warm even if it gets wet, so best to use that. The ground is damp, and we need that barrier.”

“Good point,” Vicky says, dropping onto it when Amy finishes. “How are we gonna heat the soup you’re making?”

Amy just grins, and pulls the chunk of tree over, “You’ll see!”

Taylor shrugs when Vicky gives her a confused look, and sets up the plates of salad for the three of them to eat. Vicky takes a bite, humming happily, “Man, I wish this was my salad I eat at school.” The girl looks at Taylor appraisingly, “You willing to make me some? Since I know Amy won’t, not with how it all is and junk. This is the first time I’ve seen her just… go all out.”

“And I’m just doing this out here where no one will see us,” Amy said primly, patting the wooden pot that slowly heats up, filling the air with something delicious smelling.

“Could we make bread?” Taylor asks, frowning in thought on how to do it.

“We could try?” Amy takes a bite of her salad as her and Amaryllis poke at a chunk of wood that they work on to make bread. Every so often, Amy takes a bite of it and hums, replenishing it with the wood from the tree.

Once they finish the salad, they get the soup, and excitedly eat it. Taylor has Amaryllis break down the last of the wood as Vicky enthuses over how good it is to Amy. Taylor vaguely notes how Amy is blushing a lot at the praise, but she’s guessing that it is due to not normally having really good food. Carol seems like the kind of person who’d let her family starve; to Taylor, at least.

It doesn’t stop her from praising Amy, too. The girl is nice, and needs to be told she’s not horrible.

Soon enough they’re done, and they decompose all the things they’ve made, leaving the false bigfoot corpse, and head on out. They find where they left the pod turned plant is, and remake it. 

All in all, a nice day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is very bad. I don’t know what I’m doing but it sure isn’t doing well. Spending time on Thursday with extended family who hate what I am on a base level certainly won’t help that. 
> 
> Even if I’m unlikely to have a good Thanksgiving, I hope your Thursday is better than mine. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this, and I’m sorry I haven't been up to replying or reacting to your comments lately. I should have realized I’d do badly, since this is why I stopped updating my other fics before. I’m had been hoping this once a week update schedule would fix that, but all it’s done is make me dread Tuesdays. 
> 
> No matter. Even when I run out of what I’ve written of this, I’ll finally do what South has been encouraging me to do for a long time now and make a snippet thread on SB or SV. I can even make on here on AO3, and I'll probably have each snippet in it's own thing, and just connect them up into unfinished works or something. You don't need to worry about me clogging everything up in a ton of tags!
> 
> But I hope you all have a good day.


	12. At The Palanquin

Taylor waits as patiently as she can by the staff entrance of the Palanquin, trying not to look too ill, her father next to her with Amaryllis and Maggie in his arms. The door opens to a surprisingly normal looking woman, who blinks at them, then smiles, “Ah, Taylor and her father?”

“Yup!” her father says with a smile. “We’d shake hands, but mine are full, and my daughter doesn’t for obvious reasons.”

The woman glances at where Taylor is holding herself aloof and slightly unwelcome to touch,“Of course. Come in, come in.” The woman moves out of the way, letting them go through the door, “My name is Emily,” she shuts the door behind them, “or better known as Spitfire.”

“Hello, Emily,” Taylor says, wobbling slightly as she looks around. “Is the room Melanie said would be for me up and ready?”

“Yeah, come on.” They’re lead up some stairs, and into a door marked as staff only, only to keep going. Eventually, she takes them to a plain door, “I’d walk you in, but I’m not supposed to do that?”

Taylor looks at the door, “I… guess?” That’s not actually part of the arrangement, but she supposes if it keeps the amount of people to a minimum she won’t complain. “Thank you.”

“Nah, thank _you_ for the money we’re making off this.”

She shares a look with her father as Emily walks off, then shakes her head. Whatever. They are paying a fair amount for this, so it makes sense that Emily is just pleased. She just… whatever. 

Opening the door, they walk in, and Gregor is off to the side, straightening a sheet on a couch. Melanie is sitting in a seat opposite the couch, typing away at a laptop. The woman glances up at them, and closes it to stand up. “Mr. and Miss Hebert. It’s good to see you together. We have the requested furniture, since we _did_ insist on you doing this here, rather than at your home. It is just easier, should we decide on having you touch Labyrinth instead of Spitfire. Possibly both. We will see.”

Taylor nods, walking over to Gregor as her father places her offshoots on the floor. Both of them hurry over to her, hopping onto the couch as Taylor helps make sure the sheet is sitting right along with Gregor. She says, “The offshoots don’t make a mess when they’re created.”

“You said, but I am still… I look how I do, so I do not want to possibly cause a mess because the offshoot comes out looking more like a snail than I already do. Just in case.”

“I see.” She glances around with a small but tired smile, “I suppose I’m grateful that there aren’t tarps around in that case.” She pats his arm, eyeing the couch.

“It would be unaccountably rude. I would not have it.” He stands up to his full height, and it makes her smile widen, ever so slightly.

Sitting down, Taylor takes his hand, “Thank you.”

He smiles at her, sitting next to her with care, “I just know that I would hate to be treated like I was going to throw slime or paint around when invited into a home. You seem like a sensible person, so I made sure that you are treated human. Like how I want to be.”

She sinks a little further into the couch, “Good. Could you hand me Amaryllis? I’ve been feeling sick all day, and without her to fix problems, we’d be doing this at my home instead.”

He grimaces, and picks up her flower to put in her lap. She touches Amaryllis’s hand to her face, and sighs in relief before setting her to her other side. He looks at them intently, then cautiously picks up Maggie, “You know, even if he comes out looking more snail-like than me, if Maggie is any indication, I know he will look very good.”

She beams, “No matter what, I will love him.”

“I am glad.”

She shakes a little, and lays down on the couch, “I’ve been doing pretty well, but today’s been the worst since Amaryllis’s emergence. With Maggie, it only took one or two top offs, and I’d be fine. I just am not-” She gags, and Maggie pushes Gregor away when he tries to comfort her. 

Amaryllis jumps off the couch to keep Faultline and her father away. Her dad saying, “Shit, this is worse than how it looked with Amaryllis. Take off your shirt, Taylor!”

“R-right.” She tugs it off, showing her crop top that exposes her belly, and she opens the stomach there, hoping it helps, but what happens is she’s wracked with more nausea, and she groans, laying on her side. 

Gregor reaches over, moving the clothing out of the way, and getting off the couch. “Would you like to lay down more fully on the couch?”

She wiggles a bit, trying to do that, but has Amaryllis and Maggie pull her to a more comfortable position, shooing away the adults that try to help. She doesn’t want them here. She wants to be left alone.

She hates that there’s practical strangers even close to her as this happens, and only tolerates her dad being with her in the room. It’s terrible, to be so vulnerable, and others near her like this. Especially with how she feels at the moment. It is worse in many ways than Amaryllis, too. With Maggie, it felt almost painless, since Amaryllis was there to keep her from being sick, and because she was alone. No one but her and Amaryllis. Safer.

But she’s in an unfamiliar place, Melanie and Gregor staring at her, while her dad looks distressed. She hates it so much.

She turns, rolling so she isn’t staring at them, and has Amaryllis climb on the back of the couch so she can just hold up her hand to hold and keep her from feeling so bad. The offshoot is close, but it’s so terrible and she’s just-

She gags again, finding herself rolling off the couch entirely, and Amaryllis landing painfully on top of her before she forces herself to her hands and knees, hacking and screaming without controlling it, and …

There he is. 

She shakes as she sits back on her heels, only to flip her lower legs to her right, landing her butt on the floor before scooping her newest offshoot into her arms. She hugs him carefully, “Ah. We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Instantly, her father hurries next to her, hugging her and her newest offshoot, “Taylor!”

Leaning on him, she stares over to where Melanie is inspecting what can only be Gregor. He’s still an overweight looking man, but now he has no hard brown shell things anymore, his skin still translucent as before, but it also extends to his hair as well. He looks more human now, less distressing, if still obviously a parahuman. A look at her offshoot shows the same thing, if not overweight, and not balding. 

Gregor walks over cautiously, “I apologize for how much pain that seemed to cause you, but I must thank you on how much you’ve improved me. In fact, I will test my powers and see what all I can do.” He kneels down, extending a hand, and she cautiously - more than a little reluctantly, as well - puts her own in his, letting him squeeze it, “I feel I have to thank you. I look so much better than I have before.”

She blinks at him, feeling kind of empty, and genuinely can not find it in her to truly care that much. “Okay.” She blinks again, trying to grasp at what she should be saying, “... you’re welcome.”

Her father pets her hair, “What are you naming your newest offshoot?”

She straightens up, “Oh! RIght. I … I didn’t really have a name yet.”

Faultline walks over, “Do you want to discuss that now, or after you get your next offshoot or two?”

“Ah… after, I guess?” She shrugs, “I don’t actually have an opinion either way. Whatever.”

Her father gets up to gather her clothing as Faultline says, “Okay, but before I bring Newter, I need to ask you a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Did Panacea’s powers improve after you had Amaryllis?”

“Uh… let me check?” She tugs out her cellphone, and sends a text to Amy, asking, ‘_Hey, quick question? Did your powers get better after I had Amaryllis?_’

It doesn’t take long for Amy to reply with, ‘_Yeah! I was way happier, and better able to focus on healing! I no longer felt like I was gonna break anything. It helped me a lot!_’

She smiles, ‘_Thanks, Faultline wanted to know, so I needed to know myself to answer properly. I think it has to do with me having her offshoot._’

‘_No problem._’

She looks at Melanie, “She says it did. I don’t know about Shadow Stalker.”

Melanie looks pleased, “Even if Shadow Stalker didn’t, It might just be due to how you said you rushed her. Now, I asked mostly because if it does improve everything, I’d like you to have Elle’s offshoot instead of Emily’s at this moment in time. Newter will be after her, then Emily.”

“Okay. Do I copy her now, or…?”

Her father hands her her overshirt, and she puts it on as Melanie says, “I think that may be best.” The woman pauses, “I think touching Newter can wait until you’re done talking with Gregor about naming your latest. You mentioned wanting to do that.”

She nods, taking Gregor’s hand when he offers it to get up. Sure, she can do it on her own, but she’s still a little wobbly, even with Amaryllis fixing things. “Could I get something to eat later, too?”

“Of course. I’ll go get something for you after I get Elle and Newter arranged,” she’s told as Melanie heads out the door.

She sits back on the couch, her newest offshoot in her lap, and Gregor off to her side. Her father is sitting on the chair, Maggie curled against him, and she can hear him murmuring soft reassurances to his granddaughter. Focusing on Gregor, she says, “I prefer human names.”

That makes him smile, “I know you do. That much is clear, and that you like them with a meaning behind them.”

She laughs softly, “Flower, Magpie. Yeah. I don’t… I don’t want his name to mean snail, though.”

“How about glass? Or transparent? Since he and I are both a little see-through?”

She looks at her offshoot, and sighs, “Dad? Where are the clothes we brought?” She catches the bag he throws at her, and she digs through it, getting him dressed as she says, “I could use that, yes. But what names fit that?”

Gregor hums as he looks at his phone, “A synonym of transparent is Tiffany.”

She frowns, “That’s a girl’s name. You’re not a girl. Sure, he doesn’t have a sex or real gender, but….”

“You feel better with a name that matches mine in that manner.”

“Yeah.”

He moves to show her the origin of the name Tiffany on his phone, “How about Theophanes? That’s the masculine form of it. Or,” he taps a link on the page, “Theofanis, with an ‘f’ and an ‘i’ for a modern version of the name?”

She hums softly, “Theo for short.”

“Theo for short,” he agrees, smiling at her. 

“I…” She looks at her offshoot, taking his small hands in hers and looking in his eyes, “I like it. Theo is a good name. Thank you, Gregor.” She kisses Theo’s head, “He’s wonderful, isn’t he?”

Gregor carefully reaches for Theo, and she directs him to Gregor’s arms. Inspecting him, the man hums softly, “He is.” Giving him back, Gregor says, “He is amazing.”

She grins, hugging Theo close, “If you want, you and him can go test your powers as I wait on Newter and Elle?” She doesn’t really want Theo away from her, but Gregor and the crew won’t hurt him. They see her as a source of profit. But if her power enriches those she copies, she likely will be charging others for the chance. Anyway, Theo will be safe, and it isn’t like he won’t be with her afterwards. She must focus on the now, no matter how hard it is.

He stands up, “I think so.” He holds out his hand, and Theo jumps down to take it. She waves as Gregor leads her offshoot to the door, and downstairs. 

She takes Amaryllis’s hand, letting her check to make sure everything is okay, and then tugs her offshoot into her lap. She can see through Theo that Emily is lounging on a chair, drinking something. Generally, it’s kind of boring, even when Theo is lead to a sort of empty room, and they experiment with powers. She only pays half focus to that since Elle and Newter walk in, Mel looking pleased.

The woman walks over to her, holding Elle’s hand, saying, “Taylor, since you have already paid in advance, and it improved Gregor, I will be giving you a refund. The price for everyone’s who’s power you improve will be half price, even retroactively.”

She stares at Faultline, then says, “I’d like that in writing.”

Mel barks a short laugh, reaching into her pocket, and handing Taylor a piece of paper as she says, “I thought you would! Here. It _does_ have to show an improvement. I believe it will, but this is just covering my own bases.”

She looks at the paper, which basically repeats exactly what Faultine says, and hands it to Amaryllis to give to her father. “Thank you. This will help.”

“No, thank you.” Mel pulls Elle forward with care, “We’d like you to copy Labyrinth first. It is likely that after Newter touches you, that you will go a little loopy, and then fall asleep. Is that okay?”

She nods, “I think so.” She glances at her father, “Dad?”

He hums, pouring over the paper, “It’s signed and dated. Just let me sign it, and go for it.” 

She watches him pull out a pen, and sign it. Taylor nods, looking at Elle, “Shall I start?”

Mel nods once, looking at Elle with care and love that Taylor can feel in herself when she looks at her offshoots. So when Elle walks forward, Faultline saying, “Yes, please do,” Taylor takes Elle’s hand with as much care as she does Maggie, Amaryllis, and Theo.

She murmurs softly, “I hope that this helps you get better.”

Elle tilts her head, smiling a little, but doesn’t respond. Melanie coaxes Elle back, saying, “It isn’t… it isn’t one of her better days.”

Taylor nods, accepting that. “We can only see how it goes.”

“Exactly.”

Newter walks closer, looking at her, “Well, it’s good you’re on the couch, but you may want to lay down for this. You’re gonna be out for an hour or two.”

Faultline says, “And when you’re up, we’ll have food ready for you.”

She takes a breath, and lays down, hand extended, “Here we go.”

Newter smiles, and she supposes it’s a nice smile, but what she focuses on is his hand. Grabbing it, she feels the world go fuzzy and wobble unsteadily. She mumbles something as her vision fills with a rainbow riot, then she relaxes down into what doesn’t feel like sleeping, but perhaps it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now everyone gets to see what the start of the main(ish) plot of the fic is. 
> 
> Also, Amy’s power improved because Shaper is no longer poking and prodding her to do something other than healing. Taylor essentially is making fun things, so Shaper is happier. Now that Amy is also doing it, Amy is significantly less stressed. Well, less stressed both due to power related problems and family ones.
> 
> Speaking of brain problems, I’m still not doing well. Thursday was better than I originally feared, since we went close family only, but that just means I’m not backsliding as heavily as I was expecting. 
> 
> I hope you are all doing better than I am, and enjoyed the chapter.


	13. Napping and Being Awake

Melanie looks down at the girl in shock, surprised at how fast she falls asleep. Typically, it takes a little bit longer than that to work, but she might be too used to people fighting against it? Root- Taylor, since she doesn’t have on a mask or costume, looks so much _younger_ as she sleeps. The first time she saw it, the girl was on the couch at her own home, Melanie barely noticed; now it is so obvious, it is painful. She can’t help it, leaning over and carefully brushing the hair out of Taylor’s face.

She tilts her head, hand on Elle’s shoulder, and asks in a soft voice, “Does she always look like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders?”

Danny walks up next to her, the not exactly a c53 in his arms, “Yes. Other than sleeping, as you can see. She…” He clears his throat, and a glance at him shows him looking away as he says, “Since her trigger, it’s been very difficult for her. It didn’t help that we didn’t know she was a cape for about a month.”

She jerks a bit in shock, “How can you _not_ know? Especially with her… her...,” she waves at the sleeping girl’s stomach. “It’s very visible!”

Danny gives her a wane smile, shrugging a little. Maggie makes a protesting noise, hopping from his arms to the ground, warbling musically in clear irritation. Danny ignores Maggie, just saying to Mel, “She only lost her belly button after Amaryllis was out. When she closes that mouth, the lack of belly button is the only clue.” He gives her a sharp look, “And she never went around with crop tops or anything, either way.”

Maggie puffs out her feathers, moving to Elle, who picks her up, while Mel says, “How odd. Well, now there’s a physical indicator. Do the Offshoots have one?”

“No, they don’t. Here, I’ll show you,” Danny says. He looks at where Amaryllis is sitting with something in her hands, calling, “Amaryllis, sweetheart, come here.”

Amaryllis giggles excitedly, scrambling to hurry over, her little voice saying, “Gran’pa, made this!” She shoves something at Danny, who takes it. “Flower. It me.”

And.. the man is holding an amaryllis flower. He looks down, smiling, “It’s you.” He asks, “Could you show Faultline your belly? She knows about the mouth, so keep that closed.”

“..’kay.” Amaryllis lifts her shirt, showing her stomach, free of any sort of belly button. The offshoot turns to Danny, “Give back.” She takes the flower from him, and hurries over to Taylor, swinging her legs over the edge of the seat.

Danny puts his hands on his hips, “Huh. They’re never this talkative when Taylor is asleep. Normally, they fall asleep with her.” That’s interesting to note. Also, she’s surprised at the vocabulary. Amaryllis is speaking more like a toddler than the five years old she looks.

Mel looks over to where Maggie is warbling happy as Elle holds her, a small smile on her face. Mel takes out her phone, snapping a picture. “Elle is… already doing better, it seems,” she admits. “But is this a thing that _does_ happen?”

Danny shrugs, almost helplessly, “I can’t really tell if Taylor is controlling them or not, sometimes. Amaryllis says goodnight to me when Taylor is sleeping, and they’re dropping down. Maggie sings at me, then crashes. It’s hard to know or tell.” He shrugs again, and Mel has to just accept it. What else is there to say?

“Well, how about we make-”

The door opens, and Gregor comes in, looking worried. The newest offshoot in his arms, “He… he fell asleep without any warning. What happened? I had to walk slow since I do not want to wake him, but…” Gregor looks at her and Danny helplessly.

Danny walks over, taking Theo, and holding him in his arms, “He’s probably asleep because Taylor is. Let’s have him in a more comfortable spot, and he should be just fine.”

Gregor says, sounding unhappy, “He was foaming a bit at the mouth before he fell asleep.”

“Ah,” she says, walking over to him. Reaching out, she lets him make the move to touch her, knowing he prefers to initiate. He takes it cautiously, and she says, “We should have warned you that we were letting her touch Newter.” Newter looks over from where he’s kneeling across from Amaryllis - displaced from where she was sitting by the sleeping Theo. Newter waves merrily before touching one of the petals at Amaryllis’s insistance. Mel returns her focus on Gregor, “I didn’t realize it would happen, but you should have been told.”

Gregor nods, “I was just worried he was hurt. It is good to know he is not.” He rubs his head, and shrugs, “I will go back to my room. Please tell me if you need me.”

“I will. Thank you, Gregor.”

He gives her a wide smile, showing his teeth which are now white and straight instead of slightly yellowing, and bows slightly, “It is my pleasure. If you could, I’d like to know if Taylor and Theo are fine, as well.”

“Not a problem.”

He leaves, and Mel looks back at the room. It feels like a bit of a disaster area, if she’s honest. She’s glad the sheets are down, but it is clear that Maggie and Amaryllis are going to be a little chaotic, and Elle and Newter are _encouraging_ them. Elle tossing Maggie in the air, who then goes shadowy and flies a bit in the circle before landing back in Elle’s arms, fully corporeal. Amaryllis now has a _larger_ flower, no longer an amaryllis, that she keeps making Newter touch or spit on. 

She sighs, deciding to get some information out of this where she can, “Newter, did she tell you what you’re doing that for?”

He shrugs, “All I can tell is she’s making a toxic flower.”

Amaryllis huffs, waving the flower at Newter, “No!” Newter give Mel a hopeless look, and shrugs before turning back to the offshoot, who says, “Touch!” As he does that, Amaryllis looks at Mel, saying, “I _fix_.”

Walking over, she squats to be closer to where they sit on the floor, “Fix what?”

Amaryllis’s look that’s full of ‘are you an idiot?’ is immensely adorable, and she’s tempted to take a picture. “Fix!” Amaryllis looks at Newter, “Touch!” When he does that, the offshoot makes the flower a little different, and then commands, “Spit!” 

Standing up, she leaves them to it, walking to Elle. “Having fun?”

Elle tosses Maggie up again, and the offshoot warbles happily and surprisingly prettily. Elle doesn’t look at her, just saying, “Yes. It’s… nice to just…” Mel knows from experience that getting more out of her will not work.

Instead, she is immensely pleased, and more than a tiny bit excited. Elle is no longer acting like it’s a bad day, just a fairly normal day. Of course, under her feet and around Elle, there is no sheeting, just bare steel floor. The Palanquin has no bare steel, floor or otherwise. This may be more of a stopgap than anything.

She’ll take what she can get.

“Would you like to go on a bit of a walk around the club, Elle? We can take Maggie with us.” It’s too early in the day for the club to be open, so she has no worry about exposing the offshoots to those who shouldn’t know.

Elle catches Maggie, holding her in her arms, then says, “I…” Elle’s head tilts, “Yes.”

“Well, let’s walk and-”

Danny interrupts, voice gentle, “It might be best if Maggie and Amaryllis are close. Typically, when they’re moving after she sleeps, they get as close as they can before falling asleep.”

“Do you think they will do what Theo is doing?” She can’t know that herself, but the one person Root trusts the most is very clearly her father. She will do as he asks in this case, but she wants Elle to be happy and healthy. If Maggie in her arms or in the air helps, she wants Maggie with them as they walk.

Danny pauses, looking at Maggie, then Elle, then his own daughter. He closes his eyes, takes a breath in, then out. Finally, looks at her, and says, “I would like to walk with you both as it happens. If Maggie is fine, then I’m just there for support. If Maggie falls asleep, I know that Taylor would prefer that I’m the one to carry Maggie back to her. While Amaryllis should stay in the room, and will be safe here.”

She smiles, putting a hand on Elle’s shoulder, “Very well. Let’s walk, Elle.”

They start walking, Elle still throwing Maggie up every so often. The warbling sounds nice, but is not at all conducive to any sort of conversation. She stops Elle from tossing Maggie up as they walk down the stairs. She’s sure it would be very safe, but she still doesn’t want the person who might be able to help her break the Manton Limit, could possibly help Elle be safer, and absolutely can help Newter to be upset with her. Taylor is valuable, and she knows that Taylor and her father are smart enough to use her Crew as an example on how copying will help with someone’s power. The Protectorate and those with powers that work against them will come from great distances, just in the hope of the young woman fixing them.

She’s just relieved that she can charge _Taylor_, and it isn’t the other way around. She knows if she has to pay, that she won’t be able to afford her.

Melanie pats Elle on the shoulder, “I think I’ll get started on the food. I’m thinking soup. How about you?”

Elle tilts her head, Maggie in her arms, “Soup.”

“Good, I’ll start on-”

“Bacon,” Maggie says, talking from her stomach mouth. “Want bacon.”

She freezes, looking at Danny. The man shrugs, not much help. She looks at Maggie, saying, “I can make bacon. How does a soup with bacon sound?”

“Okay!” Maggie says, before exclaiming cheerfully, “Up!”

Elle tosses Maggie in the air, and Melanie heads to the kitchen. She’s… going to make a soup with bacon in it. This is the weirdest day in a long time.

\--

Taylor blinks awake to a tiny hand patting her face, and Amaryllis’s cute voice saying, “Mama! I _fix_!”

She sits up, automatically adjusting Theo in her arms, and having him sit up with her. She looks down at her offshoot, stretching a little, “What is going on? I don’t- Oh.” She looks at Newter, who shrugs at her a little helplessly, then at Amaryllis. Her flower is holding a flower at her triumphantly, and reading with Amaryllis’s power, she hums in surprise. “That’s interesting.”

She stands up, taking the flower to inspect. It is a blue and orange that matches Newter’s skin and hair. She taps it softly, and sniffs it. It smells like comfort and warmth, cinnamon, ginger, tea, honey… and other things that mix in a way that makes it feel like a hug.

She smiles, as Newter asks slowly, “What’s interesting?”

She gives the flower back to Amaryllis, and takes both Amaryllis and Theo’s hands, “Once we get more biomatter, I have something that you can use to neutralize the drugs in your skin. It seems Amaryllis wasn’t at all idle while I was asleep.”

Newter walks with her as they head to where Maggie is sitting with Elle, in the kitchen as Faultline and her father are starting to bake a cake in the oven. Newter asks, voice small, “You… you can do that?”

“Yes, Amaryllis can, and since I’m not heartless, I’ll give it to you. You’re going to need to keep it a secret, since you won’t want someone stealing it, but I’m certain the Crew will be happy to have it.” She slows down to better allow her offshoots to more easily navigate the stairs as they go down. “I’m not going to charge you for this, either. This is a quality of life thing for you.”

Newter stares at her quietly, then says, voice trembling, “Thank you.”

She just smiles at him, and has Maggie say, “Dad, I’m coming down. Amaryllis woke me up, and has a present for the Crew.”

Faultline says, “I need to tell Gregor and Spitfire you’re up.” The woman instantly pulls out her phone, clearly sending some texts. “The food is essentially ready, anyway. Other than this cake.”

She turns to Newter, “Soup is ready, and cake is in the oven.”

He makes an ‘oohing’ sound and grins at her, “Fantastic. You know what type?”

She has Maggie ask, and relays the answer as they start walking to the dining room, “Bacon, sausage, and noodles. It sounds good to me.”

They walk in, Newter looking at Mel as he says, “This little lady,” he points at Amaryllis, “made a plant that counteracts my knockout powers.” He waves his arms, “I might be able to touch people; skin to skin! It would fix the creepy consent issue!”

Taylor shares a weirded out look with her father, and walks over to the table as Mel says, smiling broadly, “That’s fantastic. I look forward to having a hug, then.”

Sitting between her father and Elle, Taylor says, “If you have dirt, a pot for a plant, and some waste scraps, I can even give it to you. I’ll also explain how best to do it, so that he can touch people.” She looks at him, thinking about how a lotion might be best, so pulls out her phone to see how to best make that from scratch, so to add the ingredients from the start.

Newter rushes off, and Taylor tabulates a list of what is needed. She hums softly, only glancing up as a bowl of soup is placed in front of her, “Here you go.”

She smiles up at Mel, “Thank you. It looks delicious.”

“No problem.” The woman places three smaller bowls in front of each offshoot, “And here’s some for you.”

Taylor blinks, “Ah… they can’t eat.”

“They… can’t eat?” Faultline gives her a confused look, “Maggie asked for bacon in the soup.”

“...” Taylor blinks a little, “Uh… she… really can’t eat. They don’t have a stomach or digestive tract. If she asked, it is likely because I love bacon.” She pauses, looking at Maggie, “But I could see if a single spoon will work?”

Melanie looks confused, but turns to say hello to Spitfire. Elle takes a spoon, and holds it up to Maggie, saying dreamily, “Try it.”

Taylor obligingly lets Maggie attempt to eat it. She can taste it just fine, and it seems delicious, but again, she can't actually swallow it. Taylor shrugs at the other girl, and has Maggie slip out of her chair to go spit it in the sink. “Nope. Still can’t eat.”

“What about her stomach mouth?”

She moves Amaryllis next to Elle, “Go ahead and try.”

They do it again, but this time with Amaryllis opening her stomach mouth to attempt it. This time, Amaryllis makes a face, and takes off to the bathroom to spit it out. Elle watches sadly, “... ah. I just wanted….”

Patting Elle lightly on the back, “Don’t worry. Sharing food is important and you wanted them to feel welcome. They just… can’t eat. It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Elle holds out her arms, “Maggie, can I hold you?”

Taylor has Maggie climb into Elle’s lap as the rest of the Crew walks in, making a spot to sit. The rest of the soup is placed down, and Amaryllis climbs back next to Taylor. Her father ruffles Theo’s transparent hair, and they settle into conversation and food.

It feels bustling and homey. Welcoming and wonderful. It’s… everything Taylor wants, and now realizes she needs. It is comforting in the way eating with Amy and Vicky isn’t. More like a family than a group of friends. Her stomach twists a little in longing, but she knows that it may be slow going, but eventually, she’ll have three more children. 

That is more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the last chapter for this until I'm no longer sick of looking at it. I've been working on it far more than I typically do on stories, and I'm... done for now. So next Tuesday I will be posting other things. I hope you read them, but if you don't that is okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally posting on AO3, and we'll see how it goes, I guess.


End file.
